


See You on the Other Side

by polynya



Series: The Heart is a Muscle [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Advance Team Arc, Banter, Chad ships it, Cussing, F/M, Fear of Death, Friendship, Gen, Ishida couldn't be bothered to show up, Mutual Pining, Orihime is oblivious, Slow Burn, Smooching, Squad 6 is jerks, Training Montages, minor grumpy Kurosaki Ichigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polynya/pseuds/polynya
Summary: The Advance Team mission goes to hell almost immediately, and Rukia and Renji wrestle with all they stand to lose.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is meant to interleave with the Advance Team arc, manga chapters 195-238. If you wanna read all the fights, go read that. Also, it picks up a few weeks after the end of my last story, Not Broken, Just Bent, so you may want to read that one first (but this is all pretty canon-compliant, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to)
> 
> If you are a person who likes soundtracks, much of this was written to Brian Fallon/Gaslight Anthem. The title is from the last track on “Sleepwalkers,” which breaks my heart whenever I listen to it.

“Absolutely not,” Captain Kuchiki Byakuya snapped. “It is too dangerous. My sister is not even an officer, and has barely recovered the use of her zanpakutou, besides.”

Beside him, Captain Ukitake Juushirou held his tongue.

Captain-General Yamamoto Genryuusai Shigekuni did not seem dissuaded. “It is of the utmost importance that we hold the Kurosaki boy close in this matter, and she is our best chance of doing so.” He regarded the two youngsters before him. “Could we send her with one of her superiors?”

Captain Ukitake cleared his throat. “The thirteenth lacks a lieutenant. I could send one of my third seats, but I fear they would be no match for whatever Aizen might send against Kurosaki. I could go myself.”

“Your health, Juushiro,” the Captain-General scolded him, as though he needed the reminder. “Kuchiki! You have a lieutenant!”

Byakuya saw an opportunity and ran with it. “It is true. In fact, my lieutenant is also… companionable… with Kurosaki. He would be an excellent substitute for--”

“We’ll send Abarai to look after Kuchiki. We can let him pick a few men to take with him.”

“Wait, no,” Byakuya tried to interrupt. “The 6th is a very different organization than the 13th, Abarai is quite strict, and she wouldn’t be used to his methods--”

“Now, that’s very interesting,” the Captain-General observed, the edge of his mouth curling up into a grin. “Because I happened to be walking past the 13th’s training grounds, and it looked to me like they were working on something that involved her jumping off the head of his moving bankai. I would have guessed they were quite used to working together.”

I have been _had_ , Byakuya realized.

“You seen them practicing that, Juushiro?”

“Oh… not that particular move,” Ukitake dissembled.

“Looked like fun. Wonder if he’d let me try it,” the old captain murmured, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Juushiro, had, in fact, tried it himself. It was _terribly_ fun.

“You know, that boy’s reiatsu is nothing to sniff at. I’m a little surprised that an unseated officer would be able to stand through his bankai, let alone casting mid-level hadou while riding around on it. When’s the last time she was tested for a seat?”

Byakuya closed his eyes painfully.

“It’s…been a while,” Ukitake offered. “I think that when she regained her powers, they… may have… came back stronger than they were before?” He offered an apologetic glance to Captain Kuchiki, who was glaring daggers back at him.

“Well, there’s no time for it now, but set something up when they get back. Kuchiki, you should look out for your sister, this man is underpaying her.”

   

* * *

 

Kuchiki Rukia, clad in a lovely cobalt blue kimono embroidered with silver camellias, sat amongst the number of her cousins who served the 6th Division of the Gotei 13.

“Lady Kuchiki’s hair looks very lovely today,” 10th Seat Ohno Yasuhito complimented her.

Lady Kuchiki stared firmly ahead.

“Lady Kuchiki must be very pleased to be back on duty at the 13th,” 14th Seat Kuchiki Tadaki took a different tack.

“Mmm,” Lady Kuchiki agreed, not really paying attention.

7th Seat Taniguchi Hyousuke cleared his throat. “Will Lady Kuchiki be attending--”

Rukia stood up and cupped her hands over around her mouth. “Move yer feet, Matsuda, you slug, you’re leaving your keeper out to dry!”

Fortunately for Matsuda, his fellow defenseman and commanding officer, Abarai Renji, swooped in behind him, skillfully snagging the ball from the 8th Division’s striker, and passing it to his own pivot, Fourth Seat Kuchiki Choei. Kuchiki one-timed the ball toward the goal, where it whooshed past the 8th Division goalie, bringing the score up to a humiliating 7-1.

The Sixth Division cheering section went wild.

The timeclock ran out shortly thereafter, and Rukia hopped down the bleachers, ready to harangue her favorite player when he returned from his handshakes. “What was that goal you let in?” she teased.  “You’re dishonoring my brother’s division.”

“I wasn’t even on the field at the time,” Renji grinned, rubbing his face with a towel. “Maybe you should pay attention to the game instead of all your boyfriends.”

Rukia rolled her eyes. “Can’t you order them to scrub the floors or something so I can watch your games in peace?” Her admirers had wisely abandoned her, since they knew from experience that if they got too close to their vice-captain after a match, he would start recruiting.

“It’s nice to have a good fan turnout,” Renji shrugged. He looked across the field, and waved at the 8th Division’s cheering section, consisting solely of Lieutenant Ise Nanao. She waved back. “I’m gonna tell Nanao to join her squad’s team. I bet she would be good.”

“She only comes because she likes looking at you in those little shorts,” Rukia informed him archly. To be fair, Rukia _also_ liked looking at him in his futsal shorts. She especially liked the way you could _just barely_ see the tips of his latest tattoos peeking out below the hem when he was running or kicking.

“ _Really?”_

Rukia shrugged.

Renji waggled his eyebrows at her. Putting one foot up on the player’s bench, he squirted some water from his water bottle onto his face and shook his hair out teasingly.

“You’re the _worst!_ ” Rukia proclaimed, trying to keep him from getting water on her kimono.

Nanao appeared to disagree.

“Hmm, what’s this?”  A Hell Butterfly was hovering around Renji’s head, so he put his hand out for it to land on. “Huh. Captain wants to see me right away?” He looked down at his sweaty futsal kit. “How… right away?” The Hell Butterfly would have shrugged, but it didn’t really have the proper anatomy. “Whaddya think?” he asked Rukia, cringing.

“It depends…” she shrugged on behalf of the Hell Butterfly. “Would you rather be yelled at for being late or for being unpresentable?”

 

* * *

   

Renji had chosen “unpresentable.” It was, perhaps, the wrong choice.

“ _Lieutenant Abarai_ ,” Captain Kuchiki snarled. “I can see your _knees_.”

“My deepest apologies, sir,” Renji offered. “I was off-duty, you understand. Your message said to come right away.”

Captain Kuchiki _glared_ at him.

“Do you want me to go change and come back?”

Captain Kuchiki appeared to be considering it. “No, the damage is done, and I only have a short message:  The Captain-Commander wants to see you.”

Renji leaned forward slightly. “Come again, sir?”

“The Captain-Commander of the Gotei 13 wants to see you, Lieutenant Abarai. Old man. Long beard. Could destroy you in his sleep.”

“Do you know why?” Renji asked, his voice barely above a whisper. What had he _done_?

“Oh, he wants you to lead some field team to the World of the Living,” Byakuya frowned dismissively.

“He does? Can I? I mean, is it okay with you? Who will help you out around here?”

Byakuya raised one eyebrow at his idiot deputy. “I am quite capable of running my own division, Abarai, and I honestly don’t have much choice in the matter, as the Captain-General outranks me.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Apparently, Rukia will be with you. I don’t care what he tells you your objective is, her safety is your actual primary concern.”

“Lady Kuchiki is quite capable of taking care of herself. Sir.” Renji pointed out.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes.

“But I will keep an eye on her.”

“Speaking of which… am I to understand that you have been training her?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, sir.”

“No?”

“I mean, actually, she’s been training me.”

Byakuya’s eyebrows threatened to knock the kenseikan right off his head.

“You remember you told me that my bankai was going to take a lot more practice before it was ready to use in battle?”

“I do recall you utterly losing control of it and crashing it into the ground, yes.”

“Well, she’s been helping me practice with it.”

“By riding around on it, apparently?”

Oh, shit, busted, Renji cringed. “It’s… very good for building agility?”

“Don’t. Do it. Again. Now, go make yourself presentable and get over to Squad 1.” He raised his voice slightly. “He wants to see you also Sister! That is a very nice kimono, but you really should be in uniform, as well.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping!” Rukia’s muffled voice came through the door.

“Of course not,” he muttered. “A Kuchiki never eavesdrops.”

 

* * *

 

 

Rukia and Renji met up, clean and in uniform, outside the steps of the 1st Division.

“What do you think he wants _us_ for?” Rukia whispered as they headed up.

“They want to send _you_ to the Living World? 10-to-1, this is about Kurosaki.”

Rukia frowned. “Strictly speaking, he’s already under my Captain’s jurisdiction. They could have just sent me. Why an entire field team? Why you?”

Renji shrugged. “He’s stronger than he used to be. Maybe the Captain-Commander figures you could use someone to hold him down while you punch him in the face.”

“I would never need that.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t say no, though, that sounds kinda fun.”

“Abarai and Kuchiki reporting, as requested,” Renji told the shinigami on front desk duty.

“Have you met the Captain-Commander before?” he asked in a hushed voice as the man scurried off to another room. “I have to stand behind your brother at Captains’ meetings sometimes, but he’s never actually… spoken to me.”

“Yeah, he talked to me once. He struck me as a little overly enthusiastic about executing me, to be honest,” Rukia whispered back.

“Oh, I forgot about that.”

“The Captain-Commander will see you now,” the desk jockey said, gesturing toward the open door behind him.

With a deep breath, they stepped through, and immediately each sank down to one knee.

“Abarai Renji, Lieutenant, Sixth Division!” Renji barked.

“Kuchiki Rukia, Thirteenth Division!” Rukia echoed.

The Captain-General nodded. Mostly, he wasn’t much interested in the rank-and-file, but every so often, he met one that he suspected he’d still be seeing around in a century or so. These two had potential, assuming they made it through this Aizen debacle. He was also hoping that Kuchiki Junior would turn out to be interesting enough to make up for the fact that he had missed his chance to execute someone with the Soukyoku.

“Abarai, you’ve seen the reports, but Kuchiki probably hasn’t: Over the years, we have encountered the occasional, primitive Arrancar. Since Aizen’s defection, several fully developed specimens have appeared in the World of the Living, specifically, Karakura Town.” The Captain-General paused, and folded his hands. “What I am going to say next is privileged information: A pair of them appeared yesterday, killed a large number of humans, and pretty soundly thumped Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends.”

Rukia’s eyes widened, and her fists clenched, but she managed to stay silent.

“Those criminals Urahara and Shihouin intervened, apparently. This is obviously unacceptable, so I am dispatching a field team.” He looked at Rukia. “Based on what we know of his fighting skills, it would appear that Kurosaki is off his game. Kuchiki, figure out what’s wrong with him and fix it. Furthermore, the boy has little reason to ally himself with us, but we need him. Make sure he stays on our side. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Rukia replied, managing to keep her voice steady.

“That is the primary goal of this mission, but you need to be subtle. If the boy thinks we’re using him, this could backfire. The secondary goal and cover story is to have personnel on hand in case of further incursions. We need to find out what Aizen wants with Karakura Town and prevent him from getting it. Lieutenant Abarai, you are to assemble a team of three to four additional soldiers. Pick any officer you like below vice-captain. You are fully responsible for this aspect of the mission, and making sure Kuchiki has whatever kind of support she needs with Kurosaki.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. When you have your team assembled, report to the 3rd Seat Akon at the Twelfth to get fitted for gigais and other equipment. You’ll leave tomorrow morning. Lieutenant Sasakibe has put together some briefing packets for you, make sure to pick them up on the way out. Dismissed!”

As they stepped out into the bright sunshine again, clutching their briefing packets, Renji and Rukia breathed out in unison.

“Ichigo better be okay,” Rukia scowled, but her voice didn’t come out quite as tough as she had intended.

Renji wanted to be comforting, but he also didn’t want to offer any empty reassurances. That kid was strong, but he wasn’t infallible. Renji’s helpful brain had decided to play, on repeat, the memory of the two of them, their guts strewn all over Soukyoku Hill, watching helplessly as Aizen pulled the Hougyoku out of Rukia’s chest. “Let’s get over there and give him some backup, then,” he managed gruffly. “You wanna help me recruit?”

“Yeah,” Rukia replied. “You got anyone in mind?”

“Sure do.”

 

* * *

 

“I ain’t going to the World of the Living! I heard it sucks there!”

“It’s not a vacation, chucklefuck, we’re going to fight super-Hollows.”

Ikkaku put his feet up on the table. “Do I have to wear a power limiter?”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ceiling. “You probably _should_ , but since you’re not a vice-captain, they might let you go without one. That’s up to Squad 12, not me.”

“Well, I’m not wearing one.” Ikkaku pursed his lips. “Can I fight Kurosaki?”

“Kurosaki may or may not be in shape for fighting,” Renji hedged.

Ikkaku surveyed the serious face of his former junior. He hated the kid’s fucking _ambition_ and he hated it even more when Abarai tried to act like he, Ikkaku, was supposed to have some himself. He glanced over at the extra appendage Abarai seemed to have grown over the past few weeks. “If I don’t get to fight Kurosaki, can I fight Kuchiki?” He’d had to listen to the kid moon about this girl for roughly 30 years, and had always imagined her as some tall, icy princess with a good rack who would most likely treat Abarai like shit. He was honestly having trouble getting Kuchiki’s measure, and he desperately wanted to square off against her.

“No,” Renji made a disgusted face.

“Yes,” said Rukia. “Deal.”

“Fine, deal,” said Ikkaku.

“No deal!” Renji shouted. “I need her to do her job, and that will be very difficult if you _kill her._ ”

“Fine, I agree to hold off on fighting her until after we get back.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” Rukia growled.

“It would be hard not to be,” Ikkaku replied.

“When do we leave?” Yumichika asked. “I’m low on snail serum, and I’ll need to pick some up before we go. I am not using that rubbish they call mucin in the Living World.”

“I didn’t invite you!” Renji exclaimed.

“I know, and I’m overlooking your rudeness because of our long friendship and because I know no one ever taught you any better. Kuchiki, what are we talking about in the way of wardrobe? Formal? Harajuku style?”

“I think it’s going to be mostly school uniforms,” Rukia shrugged.

Yumichika sighed from the bottom of his feet. “Ugggghhh. I will go, but we’re getting facials when I get back.”

“Um, okay?” Rukia agreed.

“Not you, I meant Abarai, who has _not been caring for his pores_ since he left Squad 11.” Yumichika had a quick second thought, and looked back at Rukia. “You can come if you tell me what Captain Kuchiki uses for moisturizer, the man’s skin is _unreal_.”

“My pores are _fine_ , and I didn’t even ask you to come!”

“Well, I’m not going if he’s not going,” Ikkaku shrugged.

“Fine! You can both come! You can both have whatever you want when you get back, but I’m telling you, Ikkaku, that if you kill Rukia, Captain Kuchiki will kill you when he gets done killing me, so you might want to take it easy on her.”

“You’re not very confident in me,” Rukia pointed out. “I am small and hard to catch.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ikkaku waved his hand. “I can leave her in mostly one piece, it’s fine.”

“Good, it’s settled. Clear it with your captain, and check in over at 12 for gigais and shit.”

“Gigais?! You didn’t say anything about gigais!”

Renji just got up and left at that point, Rukia scrambling at his heels.

“Did that, uh, go the way you wanted?” she asked tentatively, once they were out the door.

“Oh, yeah, that went exactly the way I wanted.”

She raised one eyebrow.

“Madarame is probably stronger than any of the actual vice-captains, he just doesn’t want to get promoted. Since I’m not allowed to recruit vice-captains or above, he’s a cheat card, as far as I’m concerned.”

“What about Ayasegawa?”

“Here are some facts about Ayasegawa.” Renji ticked off on his fingers, “One. He goes everywhere with Madarame. He’s compulsory. There was never a choice to begin with. Two. Madarame is a disaster on two legs. I don’t want to spend the entire mission babysitting him, and Ayasegawa is much better at it than I am anyway. Three. Ayasegawa is very strong, he’s a great pick in his own right.”

“Then why’d you give them such a hard time?”

“Because if they didn’t feel like they pulled one over on me, they wouldn’t have agreed to go.”

“I’m really gonna fight Madarame, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.  I can show you some dirty tricks that’ll work on him, if you want. He knows all the usual dirty tricks, but these are _extra_ dirty.”

“You _do_ believe I can beat him!”

“Hell, no, but you might as well give it the ol’ Inuzuri try, right?”

They stopped as they reached the gate to Squad 11’s barracks. “Who’s next?” Rukia asked.

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not really sure. You said that Inoue is a strong healer?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we shouldn’t need anyone from Squad 4. We can always call for reinforcements if things go that far south.”

“What about one of your squad members?”

Renji made a face. “All of my top guys would be horrible at trying to blend in with humans, and they’re awful complainers. None of them are good enough to be worth it. How about your third seats?”

Rukia thought about it. “They’ve both done quite a bit of time in the Living World, and Karakura in particular. Neither of them is… the strongest fighter?”

Renji nodded. “Yeah. Not a bad choice, but maybe not the best choice. What we really need is another strong kidou user. You’re a kidou nerd, who else is good?”

“I am not a ‘kidou nerd’, that’s not a thing. Anyway, Saito Fumika took the sub-captain division at this year’s Demon Arts Classic. She’s third seat or fourth seat at the 10th, I think.”

“That is definitely something only a kidou nerd would know. You know her personally?”

“She’s a genius, Renji. You can’t just walk up and start talking to someone like that.”

“Well, I don’t know her, either. We could go ask Matsumoto what she thinks.”

“Or Captain Hitsugaya. I imagine he has better opinions about his division members than Matsumoto does.”

“Yeah, but he’s always grumpy.”

“He’s nice to me.”

Renji eyed her skeptically. “Really?”

“Yeah. We did some training together a long time ago, before he was a captain. His captain and my vice-captain were cousins, and they thought it would be a good idea.”

“Because you both have ice powers or because you’re both shrimps?”

“I knew that was coming. I could feel it in my bones. Let’s just go see who’s in the office.”

 

* * *

 

 

As it turned out, both Lieutenant Matsumoto and Captain Hitsugaya were in residence when Rukia and Renji stopped by the 10th Division’s office.

“Abarai. Kuchiki. To what do we owe the pleasure?” the captain asked drily.

Renji and Rukia looked at each other out of the corner of their eyes. “You’re the mission lead,” Rukia whispered.

“He likes you better,” Renji whispered back, but, at Hitsugaya’s raised eyebrow, took the initiative and quickly explained their mission.

Hitsugaya sat back in his seat. “I’ve read the briefing on yesterday’s… events. I don’t think you have enough firepower. You should have another vice-captain, at least.”

“I’ve got Madarame, he’s close.”

“That was assuming you were taking Madarame.”

“I’ll go!” Matsumoto volunteered chirpily. “I love the World of the Living.”

Her captain eyed her thoughtfully. “She would be a good choice to round out your team, actually. Adequate at kidou. Good at both strategy and tactics, when she bothers.”

Matsumoto beamed.

“I can’t, though,” Renji pointed out. “The Captain-Commander said I had to pick from below the captain-class. She would have to wear a power limiter in any case-- there’s not much difference between a power-limited vice-captain and a third-seat.”

“There is a difference, and it’s that the power limiter can be removed,” Hitsugaya pointed out crossly.

“He said you could take three or four, right?” Matsumoto pointed out. “Maybe he would let you take me if you only took three.”

Hitsugaya stood up. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“You’re what?” Renji’s voice came out pitched slightly higher than he had intended.

“You don’t have time to be wandering all over the Seireitei trying to find someone to go with you. Assume Matsumoto is going. I’ll swing by the 12th after I get his approval.”

“Thank you, Captain Hitsugaya,” Rukia said softly. Renji nodded in agreement.

“No point in throwing away good soldiers,” Hitsugaya mumbled.

“Thank you, Captain!” Matsumoto sang as he headed out the door.

“What was that about?” Renji wondered. “Not that I ain’t happy to have you.”

“Mmm, well, he’s pretty worked up about all the Aizen business, generally,” Matsumoto explained. “But this Arrancar thing…” She looked out the window for a moment. “Our last captain disappeared in the Living World chasing down what we think was an Arrancar. He doesn’t think anyone is taking this seriously enough.”

Rukia tried not to look as guilty as she felt, given that she knew exactly what had happened to Captain Shiba, but wasn’t at liberty to tell his old subordinates.

Matsumoto clapped her hands. “Enough long faces! Let’s go get gigais! You have to watch that Akon, he never cares about the important details.”

 

* * *

 

   

“I am telling you,” Akon bit off, “the gigai reshapes itself based on the psychic image you have of yourself, I have nothing to do with it.” Matsumoto harrumphed irritably as he stuck an electrode to her forehead. “Just sit here and relax and think about… whatever part of your body you want, I don’t care. You probably tried to think them bigger last time, is what happened, I bet. That always messes stuff up.”

“I would never, my ladies are perfect the way they are,” Matsumoto sniffed.

Renji was trying to think about his latest tattoos, which he had only gotten two weeks previous. They were still peeling. He wasn’t sure how long it took before things like that got impressed onto your psychic self image.

Rukia and Yumichika seemed perfectly comfortable to sit back and let themselves synch to their new meatsacks, but Ikkaku kept fidgeting. “What do we even need these things for? Can’t we just ghost around like we always do?”

“We’re may be there for a while, and the gigais will let us digest Living World food and stuff like that,” Renji explained.

“Gross,” Ikkaku grumbled.

There were voices from outside the lab, and then Captain Hitsugaya entered.

“Hello, Captain!” Matsumoto called. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” he replied. “You got another blank gigai, Akon? I’m going, too.”

Renji sat up straighter. “You _are_?”

Ikkaku wrinkled his nose. Bad enough to have Abarai bossing him around, the last thing he needed was somebody else’s captain.

“Yeah, but I already gave Kuchiki the smallest one I had. Lemme go in the storeroom and see what we got.”

“I’m taller than Kuchiki, actually!”

Rukia raised an eyebrow.

“And if it’s a little too tall, I’m sure I can deal with it.”

“You really don’t want that,” Akon warned. “It throws off your balance. Hey, Rin, we got any more of those child-sized gigai?”

Rukia and Hitsugaya’s faces turned an identical shade of purple.

“What’s the story, Captain?” Matsumoto asked, lounging in her chair. “How come you’re coming?”

“Making you don’t blow the entire mission budget on clothing,” he avoided the question.

Renji’s hands gripped his knees. “Does this mean, you’re in charge, now? Sir?”

“Hell, no, Abarai, this is still your circus. I’m at your disposal.” He frowned. “You will all still call me Captain Hitsugaya, though.”

“This mission is _weird_ ,” Yumichika commented, not looking particularly bothered by it.

Renji ground his teeth. This mission was, indeed, getting weirder by the minute, and he did not like it.

 

* * *

 

 

Rukia seemed to have a hearty appetite tonight, Byakuya observed. For years, she had barely made eye contact at dinner, pushing food around on her plate, and based on her size, he had always assumed she wasn’t much of an eater. Over the past few weeks, he had come to realize that maybe it hadn’t been a very good assumption.

She stopped eating momentarily and came up for some air. “Brother, I am going on a mission to the Living World. I may be gone for a few months.”

He put his chopsticks down. “I know, Sister.”

“I know you know,” she replied slowly. “But the last time, I was too shy to tell you, and I had my captain do it. I wanted this time to be different.”

Byakuya nodded. “Attend to Lieutenant Abarai’s direction, Sister. He may seem like an uncultured brute, but he is an experienced field commander, he does occasionally know what he is doing.”

Rukia scrutinized her brother’s face. Was he teasing her? Surely not. “I will, Brother.”

“And stay off his bankai.”

Rukia had to work hard not to make a face. What was even the point of having a giant flying snake bankai if you couldn’t let people ride around on it?

“Rukia.” He was silent for a long beat. “Be careful. These are dangerous times. I do not like this mission.”

“I will, Brother,” she said. “But you should not worry over me so much. I am strong. I am a Kuchiki. You will be proud of me.”

A horrible, crippling sensation stole over Byakuya. He suspected it was an emotion, but of course that was impossible, since he had long ago sworn off having emotions related to Rukia. He did not want to be proud of her. He wanted her to be safe. He wanted her to be at home. But maybe there was something else he wanted.

A few weeks ago, in a moment of rare foolishness, he had agreed to start teaching her the first of the family sword forms, and she had held him to it. Kuchikis, in general, were tall and elegant, not small and scrappy; she was ill-suited to it from the start. However, he couldn’t help but be taken in by the stoic demeanor and the relentlessness with which she approached her study. She would likely approach her mission with the same single-mindedness. He was having trouble reconciling his own (perfectly reasonable and appropriate) concern for her safety with a tiny germ of… _could_ it be pride? Could he be proud of a sister such as this one?

While he pondered, Rukia had turned back to her plate.

“The food in the World of the Living isn’t bad, but it’s not as good as here,” she explained. “I want to try to remember how good everything tastes. The pickles, especially.”

When had she gotten chatty? She never used to be this chatty.

She looked up suddenly, and he felt pinned by those large, inky blue eyes. “And, of course, I will miss having dinner with you, Brother. You should be sure to invite others over from time to time. You won’t have Renji to yell at all day, either, and I don’t want you to get lonely.”

Byakuya’s eyes went wide. The gall of this child! “I do not get lonely. I will enjoy the peace and quiet, for a change.”

She… she _smiled_ at him. _Indulgently_!

“Maybe Captain Ukitake. He’s been down in the archives so much, he could probably use some company, too.”

“And I do not ‘yell at’ Abarai all day, we practice decorum in the Sixth Division offices.”

“I’ll be sure to yell at him every day for you, Brother, so he doesn’t get too full of himself.”

She was definitely teasing him now. She had started doing that lately, sneaking in these little barbs while looking at him with an expression of perfect innocence. He hated it, of course, and usually made it a point to ignore them, not that it seemed to deter her. He turned back to his dinner. “That will not be necessary, Rukia.” He chewed and swallowed. “But if it seems like he misses me, you may call him ‘a slack-jawed lummox’ on my behalf. I believe that might cheer him up.”

Rukia’s eyes went wide with shock. Ha! that would show her. Then a smile crept onto her face. “Thank you, Brother, I shall keep that one in reserve!”

 

* * *

 

 

Rukia expected Renji to be the first one waiting at the senkaimon. She was correct, but he wasn’t alone.

His captain was there, addressing him very seriously, which was a little weird, because Renji was dressed as a high school student. It was also weird because Rukia had gotten up extra early, and hadn’t even noticed that her brother had already left the house. She hung back, not wanting to interrupt.

Brother noticed her immediately, glancing in her direction, so that she would know he had noticed. Renji’s gaze followed. Byakuya said one last thing to Renji, then raised his voice. “Good luck, Abarai. Keep my sister out of trouble.” He spared Rukia only a cool “A good trip to you, as well, Sister,” as he passed.

“Why does he think that a) I’m the one who gets us in trouble, and b) that you can do anything about it?” Rukia grumbled.

Renji knew very well why, to a) at least. “Dunno, but I think that’s the only reason he lets us hang out, so I’d like to try to keep up the illusion.”

“What was _that_ about, anyway?” Rukia asked, jerking her thumb toward her departing sibling.

“You know how he is. Just came by to give me more tips on ‘comporting myself’ in the World of the Living.“

Rukia frowned. In general, Renji didn’t lie to her, but she had the distinct sense he was lying now. “Was it about me?”

“It was not about you.”  Renji surveyed her in her school uniform. She surveyed him right back. Rukia made a pretty convincing 16-year-old. Renji did not. The close-fitting uniform pants had the effect of making him look _even taller_ , if that were possible. They did look good on him, though. “Why are you so early?”

“Oh,” she said, trying to reclaim her cool. “Wanted to get a chance to talk to you before everyone else got here.” She jerked her chin. “Knew you’d be _real_ early.”

He looked sheepish. “I--”

“--couldn’t sleep,” she finished with him. “You can never sleep right before things change.”

One side of his mouth quirked in a smile. “Guilty. So, what’s up?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, and tried to look standoffish. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with me spending a lot of time with Ichigo.”

He regarded her skeptically. “Yeah, that’s the mission. We’re gonna go help out Ichigo.”

She held up the index fingers of both hands. “Yes. But I am going to help out Ichigo by being his friend, and you and everyone else are going to help out Ichigo by keeping Arrancars out of his hair and otherwise leaving him alone." She became very serious.  "He’s different when he’s on his home turf. He’s cagey. He likes to be left alone. He gets embarrassed easily, especially around his friends. He is not going to be happy to see us and he is not going to want a bunch of shinigami up in his business at all times.”

Renji raised one eyebrow. “What makes you think he’s gonna be happy to see _you_?”

Rukia’s eyes widened, offended. “Of course he will be! How could you even say that?”

Renji shrugged. “He’s my friend, too, you know. He might be happy to see me.”

She scowled. “He’s not, really.”

“You weren’t there. We beat each other up. We trained together. We told some dirty jokes. I mean, we didn’t get drunk together, but otherwise, that's friendship. We’re friends.”

Rukia gesticulated. “Your concept of friendship is so... “

“Generous?”

“Terrible.”

“I think a lot of my friends would disagree with you.” Rukia bit her tongue. Of course they would. His friends, a group which comprised a good half the population of Soul Society, thought the world of him. He wasn’t ever prickly or protective or jealous when he came to friendship, the way she was.

“Well, my friendship with Ichigo is very different! We’ve been through a lot together! You wouldn’t understand.”

Renji had laid awake all night thinking about all the ways this mission could possibly go wrong, and was not in mood for Peak Rukia. “Fine, I’ll give you two your space so you can go to flower-arranging class together, or whatever people do for fun in the Living World. Is that what you want?”

“I just want to keep things professional,” she sniffed.

He sighed heavily, exasperated. “Rukia, I work for your brother, you don’t think I know how to keep things fucking professional?”

“I think you’re used to squad deployments, where you go out and everyone ‘yes sir’s  and you stick your sword in something and then come home again and have a drink. This is a field mission and it’s going to be long, and there’s going to be a lot of waiting for the other shoe to drop.” She puffed out an irritated breath. “And I’ve really liked being friends with you again for the last few weeks, but we can’t goof around on this. I need to be Ichigo’s friend right now.”

They were both quiet for a minute.

“Our friendship is more than just goofing around,” he pointed out, almost under his breath.

“I _know_ that _,_ ” she snapped. “I just don’t know what kinda shape Ichigo is in right now, and I can only handle dealing with one touchy male ego at a time, okay?”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me,” he grumbled, looking off to the side. “I’m cool.”

“Good,” she nodded, then added a belated, “thanks.”

“No problem.”

They stood in silence, and waited for the rest of the team to show up.

 

~ end part 1


	2. Chapter 2

Karakura was much busier in the daytime, Renji realized. There were a lot of people who lived here.

“Do you know where we are, Rukia?” he asked. “We need to get over to Ichigo’s school.”

“Yeah, about that,” Rukia pursed her lips, watching the senkaimon close behind them. “There’s something I think you all should see first. It doesn’t matter if transfer students are late on their first day.”   

Ten minutes later, the six of them hid in the bushes across the street from a small building with a sign that said “Kurosaki Clinic.” A pair of teenage boys with school bags showed up at the door, shouted something at an upstairs window, and a minute or so later, Kurosaki Ichigo appeared at the front door, his head wrapped in bandages. The three boys departed.

“Not yet,” Rukia whispered. “We need to wait for the twins to leave, too.”

About ten minutes later, a pair of tween girls, who didn’t look much like each other aside from their matching school uniforms, also emerged from the clinic, and also headed down the street.

“Okay, we should be clear,” Rukia said when the girls had turned the corner. “It doesn’t look like there are any patients this morning, this is perfect.” She looked at the faces of the rest of the Advance team, ranging from curious (Matsumoto) to irritated (Ikkaku), as she led them across the street. “Look, this gonna be kinda… shocking. So I wanna get it over now, rather than in front of Ichigo or his sisters.”

The clinic doors led into a waiting room, which was currently empty. No one was seated at the reception desk, so Rukia banged impatiently at a little bell, while the rest of them stood around awkwardly.

“Just a minute!” a voice emerged from some further back room. “Is this an emergen…” His voice trailed off as the tall, rumpled doctor made his way to the front desk and took in the six improbably uniformed shinigami standing in his reception area.

“Yo,” said Rukia, leaning casually on the reception desk. “I’m back.”

Dr. Kurosaki turned tail and ran back into his office. The door slammed.

There was a moment of silence, and then Matsumoto uttered an absolutely filthy expression.

Then Hitsugaya uttered the same expression.

Renji scratched his neck. “Wasn’t that… you guys’ old captain?”

“He used to be,” Rukia explained innocently. “Nowadays, he’s Kurosaki Ichigo’s old man.”

Renji also said the filthy expression.

 

* * *

 

“Your dumb friends better not give Inoue too much trouble,” was the first thing Ichigo managed to grumble after everyone else has left.

“I am sure Captain Hitsugaya will be very little trouble,” Rukia replied, pretending there was no need for a second half of that reassurance.

Ichigo scowled. “Renji probably coulda stayed with Chad. His arm is still healing, and I definitely wouldn’t send those psychos from Squad 11 over there, but I’ve stayed over at Urahara’s and those guys are nuts.”

“Tch. Don’t waste your worries on Renji, he’s used to sleeping rough.”

Ichigo made a horrified face. “I don’t need to know what he does in private, Rukia.”

She let out a long, exasperated sigh, mostly for show. “I meant that he’s slept outdoors a lot. I, on the other hand, am used to only the finest comforts.”

“I told you, you’re not sleeping in my closet.”

“What will happen if we need to go out in the night? I have an idea.”

“I hate your idea.”

“My gigai can sleep in your sisters’ room, and I will sleep in your closet.”

“You can’t use your glove if you’re not in your gigai.”

“You have your combat pass now.”

Ichigo seemed to have run out of rejoinders. It was just him and her now. They’d done the traditional arguing, what came next?

“Rukia?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know about my Hollow?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Brother told me.”

He nodded, slowly. “I was kinda surprised he didn’t make a bigger deal out of it at the time.”

Rukia shook her head. Sometimes her brother was… inscrutable. “He just asked me if I knew anything about it.”

“You wouldn’t have. He didn’t show up until Urahara helped me get my powers back. After you’d left.” ‘He,’ Rukia noticed. Ichigo referred to his Hollow as ‘he’, rather than ‘it.’ Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck. “Have you… have you ever heard of something like that before?”

Rukia shrugged. “No. But it’s not like you to be normal in anything you ever do. We’ll figure it out. I’ll help.”

Ichigo let out a sigh, a sigh it sounded as if he had been holding in for weeks. He turned to her suddenly, his eyes scanning her face for… for something. Rukia felt frozen. “Rukia… I...”

And that’s when they felt the reiatsu.

 

* * *

 

Rukia lay on the ground in a pool of blood, trying to focus on _not dying_. Chappy kept fussing over her, which, honestly, she could have done without. There was a lot of yelling and swords clanging overhead as Ichigo fought that Grimmjow guy. This could have gone a lot better, Rukia decided.

 

* * *

 

 

“Here’s the good news,” Rangiku’s voice crackled over the comm line. “Rukia’s not dead. I’m taking her to Orihime, now.”

“Good!” Renji barked. “Is there better news?”

“I think we’ve taken out five Arrancars. There’s one left. Ichigo needs backup! You in shape to get over here?”

“I been better! How’s your captain?”

“Trashed.”

“Ikkaku?”

“Trashed.”

“Yumichika?”

“Helping Ikkaku.”

“Shit. Okay, I’m on my way.”

“I’ll come right back after I get Rukia dropped off.”

Renji flash-stepped toward Ichigo’s reiatsu. The kid was fighting somebody big, somebody who had showed up after the fight had already started. Renji wasn’t sure his shoulder was going to hold, especially not against someone who could give Ichigo a run for his money.

Fortunately, he never found out. As he skidded out of shunpo, Kurosaki was staring up into the sky as a garganta snarled shut, cutting off that roiling, angry, _powerful_ reiatsu.

“The Arrancars returned to Hueco Mundo, eh?” he panted. “You won.”

Ichigo didn’t turn around. “I lost.”

A chill ran down Renji’s spine. This wasn’t like Ichigo. Ichigo, who had sworn he would fight every captain in the Gotei 13 and their deputies to boot. Ichigo, who had attacked the friggin’ _Soukyoku_. Renji took a moment to catch his breath. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as it sounded, he tried to convince himself. Ichigo was off his game. Everyone had felt Rukia’s reiatsu plummet, she must have taken a bad hit right in front of him.

“Dumbass,” Renji replied. “If you’re alive, you won.”

“If you were me,” Ichigo said slowly. “You’d feel the same way. I didn’t protect anyone. I couldn’t defeat our enemies. I...lost.”

“Yeah, I got some familiarity with that feeling,” Renji replied, rubbing his throbbing shoulder. “It’s the fuckin’ pits, I know. You wanna mope about it here, or you wanna go give Rukia shit for getting herself wrecked?”

“How can you say that?” Ichigo howled. “She coulda been _killed_ and it was _my fault_!”

Renji was _tired_ , and at the moment, Ichigo seemed impossibly young. Which, of course, he was. “But she wasn’t,” he said gently. “She’s alive and so are Sado and Inoue and so are all of us. Okay? Everybody’s fine.”

Ichigo swallowed thickly.

“You’re probably more used to fighting shinigami than fighting _with_ shinigami, but we’re pretty hard to kill,” Renji pointed out. “And Rukia’s more stubborn than most us by half. Let’s go see how she’s doing, okay? She’ll probably want to know that you’re okay, too, right?”

Ichigo gave a very small nod.

Phwew, Renji thought. I do not envy Rukia this job.

 

* * *

 

 

“Didn’t expect to see you up and around,” Renji commented to Toushirou as he and Ichigo alighted on the roof of Orihime’s building. The young captain’s upper body was swathed with bandages, but he was bright-eyed and upright. “Matsumoto made it sound worse than it was.”

“She did not,” Toushirou replied. “Inoue is... _incredible._ You honestly would not believe how much blood came out of me.”

“Is Rukia okay?” Ichigo interrupted grimly.

“Inoue’s working on her now,” Hitsugaya gestured to the other side of the roof, as if the glowing bubble of _souten kisshun_ wasn’t a dead giveaway.

Ichigo and Renji walked over, trying to keep their footsteps soft, so as not to be disruptive.

Rukia squinted at them through the healing shield. She pointed to her forehead. “Hey, Renji, you got, uh, a little blood on your face,” she cracked a grin.

He grinned back at her fondly. “What happened to you, you trip?”

“Stop joking around,” Ichigo elbowed him in the ribs. “Inoue’s trying to concentrate.”

Inoue glanced up at them, briefly. It looked like maybe she was going to say something, but then decided not to. Her eyes followed Ichigo as he settled down next to Rukia, but his attention was fully on the patient, not the healer.

Renji hunkered down next to Ichigo, and to his mild surprise, the boy stiffened.

Rukia had warned him about this, hadn’t she? That Ichigo would be as cagey and prickly about Rukia as she was about him. Well, they could get back to their weird, intense friendship tomorrow, when Rukia was feeling better. Renji was perfectly happy to stay out of it. Whatever it took to get Ichigo back to fighting strength.

 

* * *

 

 

Urahara watched Renji with narrowed eyes as he climbed back into his gigai, which he had left loitering in the parking lot of the Urahara Shoten.

“How’s yer kid?” Renji asked.

“Alive. Thanks to you, I suppose, in some part.” Urahara looked him up and down. At least now that he was back in the gigai, he was no longer visibly crusted with blood. Urahara sighed, disgustedly. “What do you want, anyway?”

“I need a place to stay and I got something to ask you.”

Urahara tapped his fan against his leg. “You can sleep in my storage room. Tonight only. Try not to bleed on anything. You can ask questions, but I’m not answering them.”

“Deal,” Renji replied.

Urahara stepped aside to let him in the front door. As Renji brushed past, he slipped the folded letter Kuchiki had given him that morning into Urahara’s hand. Urahara stuffed it in his pocket without looking at it, and slid the door closed behind them.   

 

* * *

 

Rukia overslept.

She’d had trouble falling asleep in the girls’ room. She was used to her cozy closet, the white noise of Ichigo’s steady, sleepy breaths, the comforting static of his poorly contained reiatsu. Once she was finally asleep, she had gone down into a deep, deep sleep, as though her body wasn’t convinced that it had been fully healed of its injuries.

She dashed down the stairs, trying to pull on a knee sock as she went, and falling down the last three. Had Ichigo left for school without her? She skidded into the eating area.

“Hey, you’re all right!” Isshin shouted at her.

Rukia blinked. “Is something wrong?” Sometimes Isshin just shouted things.

“Ichigo’s missing!” Yuzu wailed. “Do you know where he is?” Sometimes Yuzu overreacted.

Rukia thought about Ichigo’s weird defeatedness the night before, his uncharacteristic pessimism. She had a bad feeling about this.

“He probably just wanted to get to school early,” she said, offhandedly. She didn’t want Yuzu worrying any more than she already was. “I’ll go find him. He can’t have gone far.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was early evening when an exhausted, defeated Rukia shuffled toward the back room of the Urahara Shoten.

“It looks like it healed up all right,” she heard Yumichika’s scolding voice. “You shouldn’t have let a wound like that sit overnight.”

Renji was shrugging back into his kosode as she reached the doorway.  “Tessai was working on Ururu all night and Orihime looked wiped when she got done with Rukia. I didn’t want to push her. And I assumed Madarame would be keeping you busy.”

“I hardly took a scratch,” Ikkaku bragged.

“Awasegawa called in a _funeral_ for you, did you think that wouldn’t get back to me?” Renji turned his attention back to Yumichika. “Also, you could have answered your phone this morning the first or possibly third time I called.”

Yumichika rolled his eyes. “Like I would ever be up before _eleven_ , Abarai.”

Renji started to retort when he spotted Rukia in the doorway. “Oh, hey, Rukia, what’s up?”

“Can I, uh, talk to you?” she asked quietly. Her eyes darted between Renji's former squadmates.

He took the hint. “Oi, shove off, you two. Thanks for the heal, Yumi.”

“Next time, don’t be a hero, Mr. Vice-Captain,” Yumichika sniffed. “What if we’d got attacked again today?”

“Okay, okay, I heard you. Get outta here.”

Yumichika and Ikkaku filed out, nodding curtly to Rukia as they passed.

“I didn’t realize you’d gotten hurt last night,” Rukia said softly.

“Aw, it was nothing. I just, uh, got… gored… in the shoulder… it wasn’t that big a hole.”

Rukia stared at her feet. “You could have called me. I’m didn’t even know Yumichika knew any kaidou.”

“Oh, he lies and says he can’t do it, but it’s bullshit. I, uh, figured you were busy.”

Rukia finally let her eyes meet his. “I lost him.”

“Huh?”

“Ichigo. He left the house early this morning and no one has seen him since. He didn’t go to school. I’ve been chasing spirit ribbons around town all day.”

Renji frowned, his brow creasing as he concentrated on something unseen. “He’s… around. I can feel him.”

“Yeah, he’s around. This town is his home, there are traces of him everywhere, but they all lead _nowhere._ ”

“Do you think he’s in trouble?”

Rukia made a pained face. “I don’t _know_. It seems like he went off of his own volition, but… I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “Renji.” She hesitated.

“What?”

“You found him once before, in Soul Society, when no one else could.”

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I think the only people who were actually looking for him were Captain Zaraki and those two knuckleheads,” he jerked his thumb toward the doorway. “They couldn’t find a sausage in a bun.”

“Could you try?”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “You’re really worried about him, aren’t you?”

“He’s… not been himself.”

Renji considered the haunted look in the kid’s eyes, as he stood in the detritus of his dust-off with the sixth Espada. “Yeah. I think you’re right.” He hauled himself to his feet. “Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hmmm, Rukia, come check this out.”

Rukia trotted over to where Renji was holding a red spirit ribbon with both hands.

“Hold this part with your left hand,” he instructed, handing it to her. “And tell me how old it is.”

She took it and concentrated. “Oldish. A few days ago.”

“And hold this part with your right hand.”

As soon as she touched it, her brow creased in confusion. “That’s from this morning. But… how…?”

Renji crossed his arms across his chest. “A high level seal will distort a spirit ribbon. The end that’s actually attached to the person becomes hidden, and the place where the hidden part starts appears to be attached to some previous point. That’s how you get a refraction like this.  It’s why you’ve been chasing him in circles all day.”

Rukia frowned. “Ichigo doesn’t know any kidou. He couldn’t have cast something like that himself.”

“Well, you said you thought he might have gone off to train. Do you think he may have gone off to train with _someone_?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me anything.” She ran her fingers over the spirit ribbon, torturing herself with the feel of Ichigo. “But he must be nearby, right? If this is the broken end?”

“The loop may be pretty big, but he’s around here somewhere. How’s your ward-breaking?”

“My what now?”

“Ward-breaking. For something like this, you’re looking at Bakudo 78 or 84, or one of the inverted incantation techniques.”

Rukia looked at him as though he had just asked her about her woodworking skills. “What the hell, Renji? Am I a captain now? I can do #17, if that helps. Ward-busters are the worst, they’re a million lines long, and they don’t work half the time. And I don’t even know what an inverted incantation is.”

He harrumphed. “I’ve seen your brother do it. You should get him to teach you, it’s a pretty useful skill.”

“Oh, yeah, because he loves teaching me things. Why don’t you get him to teach _you_?”

Renji made a face. “Look, I’m not _dumb_ at kidou, I know how it’s all supposed to work, it just… doesn’t. For me. Anyway, I wasn’t making fun of you, it’s just that I think this is a high level spell we’re looking at. It’s probably got a redirection illusion on it, we probably wouldn’t even be able to _find_ it without a countercurse.”

“You want to give up?” she asked accusingly, squeezing the ribbon in her fists.

“Well, you and I aren’t going to get anywhere with this. We could ask Urahara or Tessai. They aren’t home, or at least they weren’t when we left, but I can ask them in the morning, assuming they're back.” Renji frowned. “I’m gonna be honest, they are _not_ going to answer me or help me in any way. Maybe you should ask.”

Rukia kneaded the ribbon idly. “If Urahara agrees to help, I think we actually need to be _more_ worried. If he laughs it off, it probably means he knows where Ichigo is, or at least who he’s with.”

“Good point.” He glanced down at her hands. “You need to let go of that and go get some sleep. He’s probably fine. The loop is just an illusion, it’s still connected to him somehow. If he were hurt it would be faded or frayed.”

“And if he were dead, it wouldn’t be here at all.”

“‘Zactly.”

Rukia nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll try to get some sleep. You let me know what Urahara says. You gonna be at school tomorrow?”

Renji made a face. “I’m… not actually sure I’ll be going back to school. Something else has come up.”

 

* * *

 

   

When Rukia returned to the Kurosaki Clinic, it was mostly dark. She was worried that the twins might be sleeping in Ichigo’s room, so she came in through the front door. The light was on over the kitchen table; Isshin sat with a can of beer, working his way through a thick stack of paperwork. He looked up when she came in. “Pretty late to be out on a school night.”

 Rukia felt crummy. She didn’t really want to talk to anyone, but those were the best times for talking to Isshin. She slid into the chair across from him.

“Can you believe it?” he said conversationally. “I gave up being a shinigami captain to come to the Living World and do paperwork. And here, I don’t even have an enterprising third seat to pass it off on.” His eyes took on a scheming glint. “He is in town, though. You think he knows anything about medical billing?”

“It’s probably past his bedtime,” Rukia deadpanned.

“Ha, ha, you’re right.You wanna beer?” he offered.

“Nah. These gigais have shit for alcohol tolerance,” she frowned. “Not like my old one.”

“Oh, I remember those,” he said with a mischievous smile. “You can have a good time with one of those, you know. You have never seen wasted like me and Rangiku in a pair of standard issue field gigais.”

“I know. I just don’t feel like it right now.” She put her head down on the table. “He hasn’t been by?”

“My delinquent son? Of course not. You haven’t been out looking for him all this time, have you?”

“Maybe,” Rukia sighed. “Aren’t you worried?”

“Of course I am. But my precious baby boy disappearing for weeks on end and coming back with a new harmonic to his reiatsu and a different zanpakutou is just my life now. What I really dread is when his sisters start tagging along after him.”   

“But he used to be with me,” Rukia replied glumly.

Isshin leaned forward conspiratorially. “You may be surprised to learn that was never much of a comfort to me.”

“Do you know where he is? Who he’s with?”

“I have an idea.”

“He’s behind a ward strong enough to refract a spirit ribbon.”

“That holds with my suspicions.”

“Are they trustworthy?”

“After a fashion.” He leaned back in his chair.  “Rukia, you know that my family specializes in blowing ourselves out of cannons, right?” He tapped his pen against his temple. “Can you trust gunpowder? Can you trust a fuse? Can you trust a 50-stanza guidance kidou that must be chanted as you are hurled through the heavens? You can’t, of course, except that you _must_.”

“You Shiba are the worst,” Rukia grumbled.

He wagged a finger. “You never met my wife. _She_ was the worst.”

“Is any of this supposed to make me feel better?”

“Worrying over Ichigo is a waste of your time. He will do far more dangerous things before this is over, and he will do even more dangerous things after that. You can’t imagine how happy I was when he started running around with that Inoue girl and her magnificent healing powers.”

“Well, she’s not with him now.”

“Then how dangerous could it be, if he didn’t take her along?”

Rukia managed a small smile. She hoped that was true.

“Stop looking for him. He doesn’t want to be found. Get some sleep. He’ll show up when trouble does.”

~ end part 2


	3. Chapter 3

Renji was sure he had been introduced to all of Ichigo’s friends after Rukia’s blessedly aborted execution, but those days had been a confusing blur of comings and goings and apologies made and received, not to mention pain medication.

Thankfully, it turned out Sado Yasutora was the big guy, and not the guy with glasses that Renji had beaten to a pulp the night he and Captain Kuchiki had come to fetch Rukia back to Soul Society. That would have been… awkward.

Chad bowed to him. “Thank you for taking me on.”

“Eh, you can thank me by working hard and getting stronger.” Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry about this, but I had a lot going on the first time we met. Can you remind me what you do, uh, powers-wise?” He looked around. “Do you even have a sword?”

“I punch things,” Chad replied.

Renji waited a moment. And then another moment. “That’s it? You punch things?”

Chad made a fist with his right hand. “My arm powers up. I punch things very hard.”

Renji blinked. “That’s...amazing!”

Chad blinked. “It is?”

“Oh, man! I gotta train all these noble dummies in Squad 6, and you _would not believe_ their stupid, high-concept attacks. Did you even know there’s a poetry-type zanpakutou? I got a guy who has to attack in patterns of 5-7-5-7-7. I got a lady who fights with a _flamberge_ . Do you know what a wavy sword is for? I did not, and neither did she. I had to go to the _library_.” He shook his head. “You just punch stuff. You ever punched a Hollow?”

“I have punched many Hollows.”

“ _Dang._ I been punching people my entire afterlife. I would _love_ to punch a Hollow. I am so ready to spend the next month just punching the hell outta some shit with you. This is gonna be great.”  

“I think I’m supposed to punch your bankai.”

“Yes. _Yes_." A rhapsodic grin spread onto Renji's face. "Hey, one more thing before we get started-- is your name Sado or Chad? I’ve heard people call you both.”

“It’s Sado. But sooner or later, you’ll just start calling me Chad. Everyone does.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was the third day since Ichigo had disappeared. Urahara had done his little la-de-daa act, denying both that he knew where Ichigo was and that he knew anything about ward-breaking.

Rukia stood outside of the school gates, _sans gigai_ , watching the students file out. It seemed pretty long odds that he would bother going to school, but at this point, she was grasping at straws.

“Rukia? Is something the matter?”

“Oh, hey, Orihime,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Don’t ‘spose Ichigo was in school today?”

Orihime worried her bottom lip. “No, not for the last few days.”

“Let’s walk and talk,” Rukia offered. “You don’t need people wondering why you’re talking to thin air.”

After a few blocks, the crowd had thinned out, and it was just the two of them.

“At least Ishida texted me to tell me he was okay,” Orihime sighed. “I haven’t seen Chad either, not since I finished healing his arm.”

Rukia’s eyes widened. Had communication broken down so badly? Then again, who was supposed to tell Orihime these things? She probably hadn’t even mentioned her concerns about her friends to her uninvited roommates. “Oh, Chad is fine!” Rukia exclaimed. “He’s been training at Urahara’s place. With Renji.”

Inoue looked briefly relieved, but then her brow creased again with worry. She was still twisting her hands together. “Kuchiki?” she asked in a tiny voice.

“Yeah?”

“I am sure you don't think so, since you’re a shinigami yourself, but your friends are a little bit… scary.”

“Inoue!”

“I mean, Matsumoto is very nice, but she’s also very strong! I couldn’t believe how strong she was when I saw her fight! And, um… Abarai seems kind of… extra scary-looking. I know you’re not supposed to be kind to someone you are training, that would be silly, but do you think-- ? Is Chad… um… will Renji be nice to him?”

Rukia put her hand on Orihime’s shoulder. “Inoue. Abarai looks,” scary, she tried to say, and almost choked on the words. “His face--” Nope. “I can’t say it. His eyebrows are too ridiculous to be scary. If he scares you, look at his eyebrows while you’re talking to him and think to yourself: He did this. He did this to himself _on purpose_.” She smiled kindly. “I’m known him _forever_ , and he’s very nice, actually. He’s a monster in a fight, but you won’t find a better friend in Soul Society.”

Orihime blinked, surprised. To be honest, she hadn't really considered that Rukia might have her own friends back in Soul Society, but of course she would. “Oh! He sounds a lot like Chad, actually!”

Rukia grinned. “He runs his mouth a lot more than Chad, that’s for sure. Somewhere between Chad and Ichigo, I would say.”

“Oh,” Orihime looked a little wistful. “No wonder you like him, then.”

Rukia pursed her lips. She had been counting on Ichigo to provide the glue between his friends and her team of shinigami, but he had skipped out on her. This state of things would not do. “Inoue. What are you doing right now?”

 

* * *

 

 

Rukia had expected more bangs and crashes as she and Orihime descended into Urahara’s subterranean training ground.

Renji was still in bankai, but Chad had de-powered his arm. It looked like Renji was trying to explain something with a great deal of gesturing. The enormous head of Hihiou Zabimaru peered over his shoulder, cocked to one side curiously.

“What is _that_?” Orihime yelped.

Rukia blinked. Oh. Right. “That’s Renji’s bankai.”

“It’s _huge!”_

Rukia shrugged. “He always makes things too big.”

“Oi, Rukia! Perfect timing!” Renji shouted.

“Me?”

“I’m trying to explain to Sado here how a Zabi-launch works. Can you just show him?”

“I thought we agreed to call it Leaping Snake Tail White Fang Whip!” she hollered.

“That’s only when you do it! If Chad learns to do it, he gets to make up his own name!”

Rukia shoved her gikongan into her mouth, and separated into soul and gigai as she jumped off the bottom of the ladder. “Hit it!” she yelled.

Hihiou Zabimaru reared over Renji’s head like an over-enthusiastic puppy as Rukia broke into a run. As it drew close, the giant skeletal head slowed to match her speed, and tipped over to the side, just a hair. With a leap, Rukia hooked her elbow around one of the top teeth, nocking a foot between the last two teeth on the bottom. She drew her sword with her free hand, pointing it forward. Zabimaru reared up like a cobra, and then cracked forward like a whip. Rukia’s reiatsu blazed as she flew through the air, and then hit the ground like a meteorite, throwing up clouds of dust and medium-sized rocks.

A moment later, she clambered out of her own crater, wordlessly high-fived Renji, and ambled over to Chad. “Imagine how big a crater it would make if _you_ did that.”

“Amazing…” Orihime breathed.

“Pyong,” Rukia’s gigai agreed.

“We've actually been banned from doing this, don't spread it around,” Renji clarified.

Chad blinked, speechless. It wasn’t because of Rukia’s showboating, though. He had seen Rukia's showboating before. It was the high-five.

As an incredibly observant and also inconveniently tall person, Chad knew that high-fiving through a large height difference was no mean feat. Renji had canted his arm out at what should have been an awkward angle, and Rukia had passed by at a distance that ought to have been just a little too far away, her own hand held uncomfortably high. Nevertheless, they had made a perfect hit _with no eye-contact whatsoever._  Chad had an _epiphany._

Orihime dashed up, elated. “Rukia, that was amazing! You looked so cool! I wish I could do that, but I would have to use _santen kesshun_  to catch myself and it wouldn’t look nearly so cool. Do you have bankai, yet, Rukia?”

Rukia smiled patiently. “Not yet. Renji, you remember Inoue Orihime, right?”

“Sure,” Renji replied, giving her a little bow in greeting.

“Your bankai is really neat and very big,” Orihime managed very quickly, the volume decreasing as she spoke so that they last word was barely audible.

Renji exchanged an amused glance with Rukia, then looked back at Orihime again.

“What brings two good-looking ladies to this desolate sandpit?”

“Oh! We brought you dinner!” Orihime chirped.

“Is it dinnertime?” Renji asked, skeptically. He looked at Chad. “Feels like we just got down here.”

Chad shrugged. “I’m pretty tired.”

Rukia was pulling herself back into her gigai. “It’s after six.”

“Wow! Well, time to call it a day, I guess. Good work, Sado.”

Chad nodded. “Thanks.”

“You two go on up, I need to talk to Renji for a moment!” Rukia said cheerily.

“Okay!” Orihime agreed, as Chad followed her back towards the ladder. “Chad, I’ve missed you so much!”

“It’s only been three days, Inoue.”

“What’s up?” Renji asked, sealing up his bankai. “And also, what,” he gestured vaguely in the direction of Chad and Inoue, “is _this_?”

“Inoue thought you were scary.”

Renji raised one eyebrow. “At least someone does.”

Rukia swatted him playfully in the chest with the back of her hand. “Look, if you’re the one who has to protect her from an Arrancar, I want her to trust you. Also, you’re both my friends and I want her to like you and also, I am much scarier than you.”

“I thought you wanted me to leave your human friends alone.”

Rukia frowned. “I am not admitting that I was wrong…” the frown deepened into a scowl, “But it’s possible I was wrong. Anyway, Ichigo ran away and nothing is going right, come make friends with Orihime. It’ll be easy, she’s just like you if you were an adorable 15-year old human girl.”

“What… does that mean?” Renji asked, perplexed.

Rukia shrugged. “She’s terribly sweet and always thinking about other people and everyone who meets her likes her right away. Also, she likes sweets and says ridiculous things.”

Renji just stared at her. “ _No one_ would describe me like that.”

Rukia regarded him with half-lidded eyes. “That’s because _no one_ knows you the way I do. Come on, let’s go up before the food gets cold.”

“Is that what you think of me? _Really_?”

“I’m _leeeavvvving…_ ”

 

* * *

 

Renji stretched his hands over his head as they walked back towards Orihime’s apartment. Rukia had insisted he offer to walk her home, under the pretense that he needed to talk to Captain Hitsugaya. To be fair, he did want to check in with the Squad 10 contingent, but it was also a pleasant evening to be walking around after a nice dinner.

“Was Rukia actually much help cooking?” Renji asked, somewhat incredulous. As far as he knew, Rukia’s idea of cooking was dangling food on a stick into an open flame. Not that he could do much better.

“She did a lot of the chopping,” Orihime replied.

Ah, yes, chopping. That seemed like a very appropriate activity for Rukia.

“Did you, ah, really like it?” Orihime asked. Renji noticed that when she spoke to him, she seemed to be focusing on a point somewhere above his eyes.

“Oh, yeah, it was great,” he replied. “That cherry sauce on the tofu was super.” The upside of a childhood spent in near-starvation conditions was that Renji found almost all food to be delightful, as long as it wasn’t too spicy.

“Abarai, may I ask you something?” Orihime asked shyly, studying her shoes.

“You can call me Renji, and sure.” Renji tried to sound casual, but internally, he braced for some question about Arrancars or dying or Kurosaki. Or some combination of the above.

“Why did you get all those neat tattoos on your forehead, but then you cover them up with a bandanna?”

Renji’s hand flew to his bandanna self-consciously. Shit. _Shit_. No one had ever asked him that before. Orihime continued to look at him, utter innocence in her eyes.

“Well…” he started slowly. “It’s kinda hard to explain.”

Some people would taken that as a hint to let the subject drop. Orihime continued to look at him expectantly.

“So, I didn’t get all these tattoos because I wanted to, exactly.”

“That’s a lot of tattoos for not wanting them.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them, I do. It just wasn’t my _idea_.” He rubbed at his weird hairline with the palm of his hand. “You know about zanpakutou, right? Ichigo has one.”

“Shinigami swords? I know they’re all different and they have names.”

“Yeah. They also have… spirits that live in them. Sort of. I mean, your zanpakutou’s spirit sort of lives in your sword and sort of lives inside you. And sometimes, they want you to change stuff about yourself so they feel more comfortable in your body.”

“So, the tattoos are for your zanpakutou?”

“Yeah,” Renji admitted. “I mean, I like the ones on my body, those are pretty cool. And the eyebrows worked out, ‘cause I had some bad _shakkahou_ accidents when I was younger, but the forehead… it’s just a lot, y’know?”

“No, I really don’t,” Orihime admitted.

Renji sighed, and pulled off his bandana.

“So cool…” she breathed.

“Ya think?” he asked, skeptically.

“Oh, yeah!” Orihime exclaimed. “Rukia said they looked dumb, but I think she was wrong, they’re awesome!” She belatedly clapped her hands over her mouth.

Renji waved her off. “I am quite familiar with Rukia’s opinions of my brows.”

“They make you look tough,” Orihime said with a scowl, trying to look tough herself.

Renji chuckled. “Yeah, but sometimes, you just wanna go have a drink and not have people trying to fight you all the time. Anyway, one time, I won Ikkaku’s drinking hachimaki in a bet, and to piss him off, I started wearing it around all the time. Turns out, it keeps my hair out of my face _and_ it looks better on me than him.”

Orihime watched him pull it back into place. “You know what would look good? A wider bandana, maybe with two layers? One could be a pattern and one could be black.”

“That would look cool,” Renji admitted.

“I like to sew,” Orihime admitted shyly. “I could make you one.”

“If you do, I’ll give it a try,” he offered.

Orihime beamed.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you think it’s going to work out?” Rukia pestered. “Training with Renji, I mean?” Chad's apartment was in the same general direction as the Kurosaki household, so they were walking together as well.

“He seems good,” Chad rumbled amiably.

“It’ll be good for him, too,” she put in. “He really needs to put in some time with that bankai of his. I’ve been helping him with his control, but I bet you can really help him improve its strength.”

Chad grunted in agreement.

“He’s a really good trainer. He even has a column in the _Bulletin_. I mean, he writes it as a favor to Hisagi, but people read it.”

“Kuchiki.”

Rukia looked up at Chad, who was regarding her seriously with one chocolate brown eye; the other was hidden under his hair, as usual. “Yeah?”

“You’re into him.”

Rukia froze. Her knees turned to water. “Huh? What?” she stammered. “I don’t even know what that means!” She knew perfectly well what it meant.

Chad frowned. “You’re, you know.” He made a vague hand gesture that illuminated nothing. “ _Into_ him.”

Rukia’s made a pish-poshy wrist flip. “Abarai? No! No way! Not a bit.” She surreptitiously looked up at Chad to see if he was buying it. He was not. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.

“He seems cool,” Chad shrugged.

“How did you know?” Rukia asked in the world’s tiniest voice.

“You high-five like two people who are into each other.”

“ _What_?”

Chad shrugged.

“Chad! That’s not a thing! Also, he’s not into me, for sure!”

“I don’t know him very well. He might be.”

“Trust me, he’s not.”

“Anyway, after that, it was obvious.”

“Obvious?” Rukia cringed.

“Every time you said something to him or he said something to you, your face lit up. I’ve never seen you that happy to be around anyone. I don’t think Inoue noticed, if that’s what you’re worried about. Ishida would have noticed. Ichigo, hard to say.”

“I’m not _worried_ about anything! But while we’re at it, don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t. Maybe you should tell Renji, though.”

“It’s just a dumb crush, it’ll pass,” Rukia grumbled. “Besides, we’re going to war, it’s hardly the time.”

“I think it’s always a good time to let people know when you care about them,” Chad offered philosophically.

“Well, _I_ think it’s good to return Inoue’s texts, she worries about you!” Rukia scolded, trying to divert the conversation.

Chad nodded. “You’re right. I’ve had a lot on my mind, but I’m sure Inoue does, too. It’s better to maintain your friendships in times like these.”

“You can tell Ichigo that, too.”

“I will, if I ever see him. Thanks for bringing Inoue to see me. She said it was your idea.”

“Well, like you said, we all gotta stick together.” They were at Chad’s apartment complex now. “Good luck with your training. I’ll come by again soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Chad agreed.

“And don’t you dare tell anyone you-know-what! I can still beat you, you know!”

“Good night, Kuchiki,” Chad smiled.

“Good night, Chad.”

 

* * *

 

It was not turning out to be a good day for training.

First, just when they were warmed up, Matsumoto had showed up with news from the Captain-Commander. Apparently, Aizen was planning to crater Karakura and everyone who lived there as part of some longer-term plot to kill the Soul King. There was no point in worrying about the Soul King, as far as Renji was concerned. The Royal Guard was supposed to be _something else,_ power-wise. If they couldn’t take out Aizen, then he and his Advance Team were going to be toast anyway, and there was no point in _worrying_ over it. Karakura, on the other hand…

Chad said nothing, but Renji could tell he was just about clenching every muscle in his body, and that was a lot of muscles.

“Look, man,” Renji said to him. “We’re here. We’re in the right place. You and Ichigo and Orihime know this town, and you’re gonna help us out.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say “it’ll be fine.”

“Oho! Yoruichi, looks like we picked the wrong town to set up shop in, didn’t we?” Urahara tootled, stroking the black cat in his arms, as though everyone here didn’t know who she was. “You said Kurotsuchi thinks four months for the Hougyoku to awaken?”

“Yeah,” Matsumoto said suspiciously.

“Hmm, and it’s been close to two months already. Oh, so dangerous! Maybe we should move! And you said the material on the Ouken-- it was documents from the Great Archive? Not the Department of Research and Development?”

“That’s… what he said,” Matsumoto replied.

“You’re awful interested in this for some, what was it, idiot shopkeeper who has no business with shinigami?” Renji pointed out.

“Innocent! _Innocent_ shopkeeper!  And I’m merely being civic-minded.” He shifted Yoruichi around so he was looking at her face and holding her under the armpits, a position despised by all felines. “Mr. Yoruichi, could you do me the favor of finding Miss Inoue and telling her I would like to speak with her? Here, preferably?”

“Myeh,” replied Yoruichi.

“You boys should get back to work. Between the two of you, you’re going to need a lot more muscles.”

“I don’t really think that’s the problem,” Renji griped.

“Renji. One more thing,” Matsumoto said seriously.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Hinamori is up.”

Renji blinked. “Oh! How is she?”

Matsumoto frowned. “I didn’t get to talk to her, but from her face…” Rangiku shook her head.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Captain talked to her. Maybe… don’t mention it unless he does. I just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.”

Chad was too worked up for any real fighting, and to be honest, Renji was a little worked up himself, so they busted rocks for a while. They had both managed to get it back together and started to get some real fighting in, when Yoruichi returned with Orihime.

That went even worse.

“Could you have been any less tactful about that?” Renji asked Urahara, after he had sent Chad off to bust more rocks.

“Probably,” Urahara shrugged. “Do you think it would have helped?”

Renji grumbled deep in his throat. He didn’t exactly disagree with Urahara’s decision, he’d said as much, but nobody wanted to be told they were benched and upsetting Orihime seemed like a criminal offense. “Whatever, man. C’mon Sado, we’re gonna run outta rocks down here if you keep this up. You’re done. I’ll walk you home.”

“Orihime deserves to fight,” Chad growled, as they headed down the street. Evening was beginning to fall. It seemed too early. Hadn’t autumn just barely started?

“‘Course she does,” Renji replied. “But it doesn’t mean she _should_.” He sighed. “When I was a student, Aizen sicced an experiment of his at one of our training exercises. I mean, we didn’t know it then, but I been thinking about that day a lot lately, an’ it was definitely him. That’s how Hisagi got all those scars on his face, he still doesn’t see right outta that eye.” Renji was quiet for a moment. “A buncha kids died. And they weren’t brave dumbasses who tried to fight the thing. They were hit from behind. That’s the kinda monster Aizen is. He attacks students from behind. He’ll kill our healers. He’ll kill them _because_ they’re our healers.

“It would be one thing if we were attacking Aizen,” Chad pointed out. “But he’s coming _here_. He could kill my classmates. He could kill Ichigo’s family. How is keeping Orihime out of the fight going to keep her safe?” He pulled out his phone and started texting. “She ran off. We don’t even know where she is right now. How is that protecting her?”

Renji frowned. Chad was not wrong. “I don’t know. We have some time. We’ll figure something out.”

Chad’s phone buzzed back. “Oh, good. She’s with Rukia.” At least Orihime answered her texts in a timely manner.

Renji’s own phone buzzed, and, with a sick realization, he flipped it open. It continued to buzz. “Yup,” he said, his suspicions confirmed, “Rukia knows all about it, all right.” He scrolled down through a number of obscenity-filled texts. “Yikes. She called me ‘a slack-jawed lummox’.”

Chad regarded him without comment.

He shoved the phone back in his pocket, still buzzing. “Look, I will admit I am _outnumbered_ here, but I stand by what I said.” He set his jaw. “We gotta talk about something that’s slightly different, but maybe the same: Who is gonna win this war? Once it really goes down?”

Chad frowned. “Us, I hope.”

“That’s not what I meant. Is it the unranked guys? Is it Squad 4?”

“No, probably not.”

“No. It’s the captains. And when I say captains, I include our pal Ichigo, but I am sorry to say, buddy, that I do not include us.”

“You’re strong. You have bankai.”

Renji smirked grimly. “Ain’t good enough. But that don’t mean we don’t have a role in all this. And this is our role, you an’ me: Buyin’ time. Takin’ hits. Makin’ a wall in front of our big guns so they can concentrate on offense. Captain Kuchiki’s good. He’s more than good, he’s amazing. And when I’m in front of him, drawin’ fire and giving him a chance to get off full-chant hadou, he’s _incredible._ That’s what vice-captains are for.”

“For getting killed, if needed, is what you are saying.”

Renji nodded. “That is exactly what I am saying.” He looked over at Chad. “You don’t have to fight in this thing, either, if you don’t want to. No one would think less of you.”

Chad looked at the sky for a minute. “I would protect Ichigo with my life. But I don’t intend to get killed.”

“You got a plan for that?”

“Yeah.” They walked another half block. “Bring Inoue along.”

Renji laughed, a mirthless bark. “An’ I thought _Ichigo_ was stubborn.”

 

* * *

 

An hour after receiving seventeen rapid-fire texts from Rukia questioning his judgement, his intellect and his parentage, Renji’s phone buzzed again. “Need to talk to you,” it said. “Meet me at the high school at 9.” Against his better judgement, he went.

She led him up to the roof. It was dark and chilly, so they sat against the air handlers, which blocked the worst of the wind. Renji wore a heavy leather jacket, but he was regretting only wearing a t-shirt underneath. Rukia had on a jean jacket and a skirt with knee socks. He didn’t know how she wasn’t freezing. Maybe she didn’t get cold anymore. That sure would have been useful when they were kids. She pulled exactly four cans of beer out her backpack and lined them up.

He eyed them suspiciously. “I had assumed you asked me up here to push me over the side.”

“I’m done being mad at you,” she replied. “I am sure your concern came from a place of love.” Well, this wasn't suspicious, or anything. She cleared her throat. “I have a solution to our problem. I don’t think you’re gonna like it, but I want you to hear me out. Then, assuming you still want to talk to me, we’re gonna get gigai-drunk.”

Some authoritarian higher-up in the Gotei with little understanding of human nature (it was Soi-Fon, everyone knew it was Soi-Fon) felt that shinigami on long-term Living World missions were inherently untrustworthy, and had ordered the Research and Development Institute to lower the alcohol tolerance of its gigais down to absurdly low levels. Field teams had quickly cottoned to the fact that this meant they could get their gigai extremely sloshed on a small amount of alcohol, and be almost instantly sober, should they need to pop out, say, in the case of an unexpected Hollow. There were a few tricks to doing it well, particularly avoiding the hangover, but Rukia had friends in the 13th who had exhaustively documented this process.

“Is this supposed to be some incentive for not getting mad at you?”

“Maybe.” She pursed her lips. “So. About Inoue.”

“I think you and Sado have already yelled at me _thoroughly_ on this topic. It isn’t even my call. I am in charge of shinigami only.”

“That’s true.” She studied his face. “But you are in charge of me. And I’m taking her back to Soul Society to train her.”

He blinked at her. “Oh.”

“Everyone keeps telling her she isn’t suited for fighting, but all she asked for was _training_. How is she ever going to get good if no one will even let her try?”

Renji sighed. “Look, I know I’m one of the people who said exactly those words, but that ain’t the reason she shouldn’t be fighting. I mean, to be honest, _Sado_ doesn’t have the right personality for fighting either, and no one tries to stop him. The reason Inoue shouldn’t be fighting is because everyone loves her to death and would _utterly lose their shit_ if anything happened to her. Kurosaki, first and foremost, but Sado and this guy Ishida if he ever shows up, and _you_ , for sure.” He shook his head. “Hell, I’ve spent all of five minutes with her, and I already want to punch anyone who would hurt a hair on her head.”

“But Renji, that’s all the more reason for her to _train_ and get _stronger_ ,” Rukia implored. She snorted out through her nose. “My job on this mission is to keep Ichigo on an even keel, and he ditched me less than 24 hours in. Keeping Orihime safe and making her stronger is the _best thing I can do for him right now._ ”

He sighed. “You’re not wrong.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “I’ll leave my gigai here. If there’s trouble, I’ll be able to use a regular senkaimon, I can be back in minutes. Orihime talked to Ichigo. Just walked right through that stupid ward. She says he’s fine. He’s training. If he finishes up, we'll both come back.”

Renji looked out at the streetlights, too bright in the darkness. “I’m not gonna say I like it, ‘cause I don’t. But I don’t like any of this. If you think this is the right thing to do, I’ll back you up.”

“Thanks, Renji,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing two of the beers. “I knew you would." She sighed. "And now you understand why I wanted to do the second part.” She handed one to him.

“Last chance to get sloshed together for a while?” His voice held a tinge of sadness.

“Mm-hmm.”

They cracked the cans, clinked them, and each took a long drag.

“You’ve, uh, done this before?” he asked, blinking away the terrible taste.

“I’ve drunk this nasty shit before,” she replied, “But I was in Urahara’s gigai, which was much more resistant to… substances. Kiyone gave me very specific instructions on how to do this in a standard issue rig.”

“Well, to Kiyone, then. I’m sure we’ll curse her name in the morning.”

Rukia chuckled, and leaned against him, taking another sip of the beer. “Slow down a little. I need to get ahead of you.”

“How come?”

She played with the tab. “I got something to say that I’m not brave enough to say sober.”

Renji raised one eyebrow. “That sounds fun.”

“Don’t go too slow, though. I need you to be kinda drunk when you hear it.”

They nursed their beers in silence for a few minutes.

“Renji?”

“Yeah?”

“You think we’re gonna win this thing?”

Renji frowned. “That wasn’t a fun question at all, Kuchiki.”

“Do you?”

“I dunno. Honestly, not feeling great about it.”

She was silent for a moment. “You think we’re gonna die? Me an’ you, specifically?”

Renji sucked in a deep breath. “If we don’t win this thing, I’m pretty sure that I, for one, am not walking out.” He regarded her seriously. “But maybe we will win this thing. I think Sado’s dumb human optimism is wearing off on me. Who knows?”

She stared into her beer. “A year ago, I was ready to die with my sword in my hand. What was it, six whole weeks ago that I almost got executed? I was at peace. I was ready to die.” She threw back what was left in the can. “I don’t wanna die, Renji, I’m not ready anymore.”

Renji had a rather lot of experience when it came to dealing with emotional drunks. “Look, we don’t have to talk about this--”

“I _need_ to talk about this!” she burst out, gesticulating wildly with the empty can. “I have all this...nervous energy. I gotta do something with it, or it’s going to drive me crazy.”

He slid his arm around her and squeezed her shoulders. “Okay. We can talk about it.”

She grabbed her second beer, and then leaned into him, working her own arm around his waist. “I’m really glad we’re friends again, do you understand?” Her thoughts were beginning to fuzz a bit around the edges. She buried her face into his side. “That’s why I don’t want to die. I don't want you to die, either. I just found you again and there’s so much I want to do with you.”

He threw back the rest of his own first beer, and with a deep breath, reached for his second as well. “I feel ya.”

“In Ichigo’s manga,” she bit off, “this is the part where people confess their love.” Renji froze, the beer at his lips. “They fall in love and kiss and go save the world. How do they do it, Renji? How could you stand to fill up your heart with love for a person and then go out knowing you might not come back or they might not come back, or maybe you’ll come back and not be the same on the inside?”

He lowered his beer, rolling it between his fingers. “I don’t know,” he replied, his voice coming out much smaller than he had intended. “That sounds awful.”

“But I _understand_ why. Why it always happens.”

“Yeah? Why?”

Rukia lurched to her feet and started pacing the roof. It made Renji slightly dizzy and he realized that the alcohol had hit and hit _hard._

“Because all the waiting and the not knowing makes you crazy and stupid! I told you, I have all this nervous energy, and if Aizen were here, I would just…I would just punch him right in the face! But he’s not here! And I feel like I am just going to vibrate off this plane of existence if can’t punch something or kick something or jump off something or-- or make out with someone.”

Renji leaned forward slightly. Something was weird about her list, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. “You’ll prob’ly feel better once you get t’Soul Society and you and Orihime can punch each other in the face.”

She had stopped pacing and was staring at him.

Renji stared back at Rukia. He took a sip of beer. It tasted horrible. Why was Rukia making him drink this again? He set the can down again. He stared at it for a moment. His sodden brain suddenly picked up what she was putting down.

“Rukia,” he managed, with the intellectual enthusiasm of someone who has just tacked a bunch of strings to a map and found that they intersected at the old abandoned make-outs factory. “Did you drag me up here… and get me drunk… so I would make out with you?” It occurred to him, belatedly, that if he had interpreted all this incorrectly, he was about to get a foot in his face.

Instead, Rukia’s ears appeared to be getting steadily pinker. She seemed to be trying to say something, but her mouth had stopped working.

Renji’s face split into a grin. “Kuchiki fuckin’ Rukia! You did!”

She finally found her tongue. “Oh, shut up, you! Finish yer beer. I’ll take you home and you’ll have forgotten all this by morning.”

Renji tried to rock himself to his feet, and managed to grab her hand on the way up. He didn’t have quite enough momentum, though, and he ended up falling back on his butt again, pulling her down with him. “Hey, now,” he said, pulling her more comfortably into his lap. “I didn’t say no.”

Rukia’s breath caught. Her eyes scanned his face frantically. Was he humoring her? Making fun of her? Calling her bluff? He was still wearing that shit-eating grin, the one he wore when he knew he had a fight already in the bag. She poked him in the chest. “This doesn’t mean anything, you understand that? I don’t want you getting ideas about things that aren’t there.”

“Like hell it does!” he hooted. “This is a _favor._  I’m doing you a _solid._  You _owe_ me for this.”

“I brought you drinks!” she scowled.

“You stole these from Kurosaki Senior, and also, they’re terrible!”       

“Fine!” she snapped. “I _owe_ you one.” Then, she grabbed him by the neck and smashed her lips to his.

At first, they kissed much the way they did everything-- competitively fierce, challenging the other, refusing to give an inch. One of Renji’s hands tangled in her hair, the other was at her hip, pulling her closer. Rukia slid her hands from his neck down to his shoulders. Pushing down on them, she swung one leg around, so she was on her knees, straddling his waist. With a low-pitched _gongg_ his back slammed against the HVAC unit.

He grabbed her by both hips, pulling her back down onto his lap, and leaning forward into the kiss so that she was forced to lean slightly backwards.

She shoved her hands under his t-shirt, letting her fingers slide up his ribs, over the diagonal slashes of his tattoos.

“Your… hands…” he choked out, “are freezing!”

Rukia pulled back so she could smirk at him, even though it meant she was leaning back far enough that she would fall if she let go of him. “You knew what you were getting.”

“With you?” he said, his eyes half-lidded. “Never.” He put one hand on her back and tipped her forward so he could kiss her again, a little less violently this time. One of his hands slipped under the edge of her skirt and gripped her thigh, just above the knee, but, maddeningly, crept no higher.

Rukia pushed her tongue past his teeth, just to see what he would do, but he just made a pleased little sound and opened up to let her in. She dug her fingers into his ribs. He rubbed his hand up and down her back, sliding it up under her jacket.

The longer it went on, they slower and more gentle they became. They relaxed into a more comfortable position where he didn’t need to hold her up anymore. He trailed his newly-freed hand down the length of her arm. She drew one hand out from under his shirt and tangled her fingers with his. He let go of her leg in order to smooth the hair away from her face. His palm lingered a moment on her cheek.

Suddenly, they weren’t even kissing any more, just staring into each other’s eyes, breathing deep, slow breathes.

“Rukia,” Renji managed.

“Renji,” she gasped.

“You’re beeping.”

She blinked, trying to digest this information, but there was a beeping noise that was making it hard to concentrate.

“I think it’s your soul pager.”

“Oh! Oh, it is!” She pulled it out of the pocket of her jacket and flipped it open. “Oh, I guess I set an alarm. See?” She flipped it around to show him the message she had composed for herself earlier: ‘‘Go home, Rukia, you’re drunk.”

She turned off the alarm, smiling sadly. “I wish we could do this all night, but Inoue and I are leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Y’coulda budgeted us more time,” he groused.

“We were making out for over an hour.”

“Really? Wow. Sure didn’t feel like it.”

She wobbled to her feet, then helped to haul him up after her. “I’m leaving my gigai at Urahara’s, so I’ll walk you home.”

“Rukia,” Renji said, as they picked up their empties.

“Mm?” she asked, holding open her bag for the trash.

“That was a good idea. Thanks.”

Her cheeks colored, and she tucked a piece of hair behind one ear. “Thanks for bein’ a good sport.”

They stood, a few feet apart, regarding each other carefully. “You feelin’ better?”

“Well, I’m drunk, so that may be part of it, but yes.”

“Good. Glad I could help.”

They looked at each other. The next words hung in the air, unsaid. Good-bye. Good luck. I’ll miss you. It won’t be long, we’ll be together again soon.

She dropped her bag, and took a flying leap at him. He caught her around the waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, hugging him with her whole body. Rukia pressed her cheek against his and squeezed her eyes closed. “Don’t die before I get back.”

He adjusted his arms so he could better support her weight, as well as return the hug. “I won’t,” he replied, a promise he had no way of keeping. “How could I die when you still owe me a favor?”

She pushed back on his shoulders and looked into his eyes, making a face that she thought was very serious. “Good. I’m gonna hold you to that.” She unwrapped her legs and let her feet dangle for a moment before he lowered her to the roof. “Now. Let’s see if we can even get down off this _roof_ without dyin’.”

“Well,” he said philosophically, “at least if we do, we’ll be together.” And with that, they staggered off into the night, leaning on each other as best they could.

   

~ end part 3


	4. Chapter 4

Renji woke up the next morning to the sun trying to murder him. Why did the storage room even _have_ windows? He groaned and rubbed his face, hoping that some enormous creature was sitting on his head, causing this massive headache, but alas, the headache was coming from inside his skull. Somewhere nearby, someone was calling his name.

He rolled off his futon and lurched to his feet. He was still fully dressed from the night before. He had to have some sunglasses around here somewhere. He had brought at least three pairs with him and had gotten two more since arriving. They all seem to be missing.

The shoji to the storage room slid open a crack, and Sado’s concerned face peeked in. “Abarai? Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” Renji nodded, swallowing dryly.

“You look terrible.”

“Yeah, yeah. Yeah,” Renji continued, still nodding. “I think I might be dead. Even my sunglasses have abandoned me,” he croaked.

Chad opened the door wide enough that he could stand in the doorway, but didn’t come in. “Did you, uh, hear?”

Renji tried to disentangle his ponytail holder. His hair was pretty badly knotted. “Hear what?”

“About Kuchiki and Inoue going to Soul Society. They left this morning.”

Maybe he could just cut all his hair off. “Yeah, Rukia told me last night.” He gestured vaguely. “Then we got drunk.”

Chad nodded with as much sympathy as a 16-year old could possibly muster for an old, hungover, dead dude. “Hey, Abarai, there’s something I wanted to do this morning. Would you mind if we did our sparring in the afternoon? Maybe you could… go back to bed?”

Renji shot him double finger guns. “That would be _great_.”

“You, uh, have a sticky note on your chest.”

“ _Do_ I?” Sure enough, he did. Renji pulled it off, and felt a pang in his chest as he recognized Rukia’s spiky handwriting. Pull it together, guy, he chided himself. She’s been gone for all of an hour.

“#1,” it read, “drink lots of water!

“#2 Whatever you do, don’t sleep in your gigai!!!”

“ _Shit_ ,” Renji muttered.

“#3 In the morning, get back in the gigai and pee out all that water.

“#4 COFFEE!”

Cheerful little bunnies demonstrated steps 1 and 4. A dreadful-looking raccoon with a ponytail and x’s for eyes demonstrated how not to do step 2. She had blessedly not illustrated step 3.

“What the hell is ‘coffee’?” Renji muttered.

“It’s a hot drink. I’ll bring you some when I get back,” Chad promised.

“Thanks, man.”

“Get some rest, Abarai. I’ll be back in a few hours.”   

 

* * *

 

Byakuya squinted at the chart included in 4th Seat Kuchiki’s weekly squad training summary. He turned it sideways. It didn’t make any more sense. It didn’t make any less sense, either. There was a light rap at the office door. Byakuya’s shoulders went rigid with recognition.

“Kuchiki Rukia of Thirteenth Squad to see you, Brother!” his sister’s voice called.

“Come,” he called, and Rukia shuffled in, bowing deeply. “You’ve returned,” he said, surprised. He hadn’t heard anything of this. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” she replied. “I am on special deployment back to Soul Society with Inoue Orihime for training. The rest of the Advance Team is still in the Living World.” She set her jaw. “I have a favor to ask, Brother.”

“Go ahead,” he replied mildly, putting the report back down on his desk.

“I would ask that Orihime could stay with us, at the house,” Rukia blurted out. “We have the space,” she added, as if there were some question.

“Is she one of Kurosaki’s loud friends?” Byakuya asked. He remembered few specifics of Ichigo’s fellow hooligans, only that they had given off an overall impression of noise and _hijinks_.

“They’re really only loud when they’re all together,” Rukia frowned.

Byakuya pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“Captain Ukitake said she could stay in the barracks, if you say no,” Rukia went on. “But if that’s the case, I’ll be moving over to there to stay with her. I don’t want her to be lonely.”

In forty-odd years, Byakuya couldn’t recall Rukia ever asking for a favor, large or small. He folded his hands. “By all means, then, she may stay at the manor. I shall send word over to have a guest room prepared. In the same wing as your own?”

“Yes, please, Brother,” Rukia said. “Thank you!”

“Please inform her that our home is a sanctuary of calm and deportment.”

“I will! I have to get back to the Thirteen now. Thank you again, Brother! You’re the best!” She flew out the door.

Byakuya blinked. The best? Well. He supposed he could live with that.

 

* * *

 

When Chad returned a few hours later, Renji had watered his gigai, gotten a few more hours of sleep, found some sunglasses, and cleaned himself up a bit. He still felt like he had been run over by the Dangai cleaner, but he looked less like it had backed over him, as well. Chad handed him a Tupperware, a spoon and a cardboard cup, then sat down against one of the shelves with his own Tupperware.

“What is this?”

“Soup.”

“Soup?”

“Do you wanna take it out to the eating area?”

“No. Urahara and Yoruichi are in fine form today. We are safer in here.”

Renji sighed, and pulled the lid off his container. The soup was warm and fragrant. It was a kind he had never seen before, a tomato base, with corn and beans and little crunchy things. He eyed Chad suspiciously. “Sado.”

“Yes?”

“The thing you had to do. It was making me soup, wasn’t it?”

“You seemed like you needed soup.”

Renji tried the soup. It was delicious. “This is really good. What is it?”

“Tortilla soup. My _abuelo_ always made it for me when I was a child. Kuchiki likes it very spicy, but I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“Not today, for sure.” He frowned. “Sorry I was hungover when I was supposed to be training you.”

“It’s alright to be sad about Kuchiki leaving. I’m sure you’ll miss her.”

Renji started to protest. She had barely left. They were just friends. He was on a _mission_. He had more important things to worry about. And then, he realized that, after stolidly avoiding her for _forty fucking years_ , he had seen her nearly every day for the last month, and his disloyal mouth came out with, “ _Shit_ , am I going to miss her.” He picked up the coffee and took a big mouthful. Making a face, he managed to swallow it. “What the hell?”

Chad shrugged. “That’s just how coffee is. You get used to it. Or you don’t.” He fished in his pocket and came up with some sugar packets, which he tossed to Renji. “I already put some sugar in it, but you can add more if you want.”

Renji emptied three of the packets into the cup. It helped. Some.

They ate in companionable silence. Renji didn’t much want to talk about it, and Chad didn’t press him. Renji managed to choke down more of the coffee, and by the end of the cup, it didn’t even taste all that bad.

“You look better.”

“That helped a lot. Thanks, man.”

“These times are hard. We have to get through this together.”

You get used to it. Or you don’t. “Damn straight.”

 

* * *

 

Orihime lay in the nicest bedroom she had ever been in. It wasn’t fancy, exactly. Everything in the Kuchiki house seemed to be the opposite of fancy-- simple and ordinary looking, but at close examination, perfect and exquisite. The futon was extremely comfortable, the blanket light as a feather, but cozy warm. It was also extremely quiet here. Orihime had lived her entire life in the city. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to sleep without a train rumbling by every thirty minutes.

The was a very light tap at her door. “It’s me!” Rukia’s voice hissed.

Orihime sat up. “Come in!” she hissed back.

Rukia slid open the shoji, slipped inside, and closed the door behind her. She carried a little hooded lantern that gave off just enough light to see each other’s deeply shadowed faces.

“Are we being attacked?” Orihime gasped.

Rukia looked surprised. “Oh, no, everything’s fine! I worried that you would have trouble sleeping. I had a lot of trouble falling asleep when I first moved here.”

“You were right,” Orihime admitted sheepishly.

“So I just thought I would come over and we could talk until you were sleepy.”

“Like a slumber party?”

“Um, maybe?” Rukia wasn’t sure what a slumber party was.

Orihime frowned. “When did you move here? It seems like a really old family home, although I guess you’re really old, too, right? Or do they build them so they seem old even though they’re new?”

Rukia gave up trying to figure out what Orihime was asking. “What?”

Orihime blinked. “You just said you had trouble sleeping when you moved in.”

Rukia started to laugh, and then abruptly stopped.  She supposed she had never told Orihime much about her past. She couldn’t even remember if she had told Ichigo. “I was adopted,” she said bluntly. “About forty years ago.”

“Oh,” Orihime breathed. She was quiet for a moment. “That sounds like a dream. Getting adopted by a super rich, noble family.” At the look on Rukia’s face, she realized that wasn’t the right thing to say at all. Orihime waved her hands frantically. “Sorry, I’m sure it wasn’t like that! Don’t mind me! I have silly fantasies, you know!” She knocked one fist against her head.

Rukia grabbed her hands and held them still. “No, you’re right. I mean, I thought it would be. I was very poor before, and it changed my life a lot. But, uh, it’s kinda lonely here. Brother wasn’t always as friendly as he is now.”

Orihime’s eyebrows shot up.

“I’ve, uh, gotten used to it. Mostly.”

“How did he pick you to be his sister? Were you at an orphanage? Was there singing?”

Rukia had seen a few movies in the World of the Living, so she didn’t find these questions quite as strange as she might otherwise have. She wondered if she should tell Orihime about her sister. Byakuya hadn’t exactly sworn her to silence, but the story hung on her heavily. It had the feel of a secret. The only person she had told was Renji, mostly because he’d also had to live with the forty-year mystery of what a fancy aristocrat wanted with a filthy-urchin-turned-mediocre-trainee-shinigami such as herself. He hadn’t been much moved by the story, to be honest, and had grunted something like, “trust that guy to honor the letter of a promise and no more.” That wasn’t the way Rukia herself felt about it, but she couldn’t bring herself to try to convince him otherwise. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t told anyone else. Maybe Orihime was the perfect person to tell it to.

“It’s very romantic and tragic,” Rukia announced grandiosely.

Orihime’s eyes went wide and eager.

Rukia went on to relate Hisana’s story, trying to make it as gothic as possible. She actually didn’t know a lot of the details, so she embellished where necessary. Orihime supplied all the appropriate lovelorn sighs and scandalized exclamations of “oh my!”

“That _was_ a romantic and tragic tale,” Orihime sighed when she had finished. “I wonder if your sister’s ghost still haunts this house.”

Rukia’s brow furrowed. “We don’t have ghosts in Soul Society.”

“Oh! I guess not! Well, that’s too bad, because it would make the story that much better!”

“You’re probably right, although I’m glad my sister has moved on.”

“Moved on from her true love?”

“Onto another true love, maybe. Souls go on. It’s what they do. It’s what they must do.”

Orihime sighed again. “That was a good bedtime story, Rukia.”

Rukia felt warm and sleepy herself, pleased that Orihime had found her sister's story as moving as she did. “You tired yet?”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“Good night, then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thank you, Rukia. Do you think you’ll come again tomorrow evening? Maybe I can tell you a story, although mine probably aren’t as good as yours.”

“I’ll come as many nights as you want.”

 

* * *

 

Chad sat in the hot spring once again, looking glum.

Renji sat on the edge. He wouldn’t have thought he would get tired of such a thing, but after a week and a half of fighting until they were too hurt to move, soaking it off, and going another round, he was honestly just sick of being damp all the time.

“How do you do it, Abarai?” Chad asked him.

“Do what?”

“Attack someone like you mean to kill them.”

Oh. _That._

Well, Renji was glad he hadn’t been the one to bring it up; he didn’t want to harp on the kid. That was the problem, though. Chad didn’t want to kill anything, if he could help it.

“I grew up in one of the nastiest parts of Soul Society,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I think at one point I was a nice kid, maybe, just after I died. But I wanted things. I wanted to be alive and I wanted my friends to be alive and I wanted things to be fair, or as fair as they could be. It wasn’t a place where you could keep to yourself and mind your own business. If you wanted to survive, you had to scrap and scheme and fight, every day. I don’t like killing, for sure, but I like living an awful lot more.”

Chad look surprised. “I guess I thought all shinigami were born noble, like Rukia.”

Now it was Renji’s turn to be surprised. Maybe he shouldn’t have been. Rukia tended to dole out personal information on as-needed basis, which frequently turned out to be “never.”

“How did you become friends with her, anyway? You’re in different divisions, aren’t you?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Renji shrugged. If Rukia was going to play it close to the vest with her human friends, he wasn’t sure it was his place to rat her out.

“You hit me pretty hard this time. I think I’m gonna be in here for a while.”

Renji shrugged. These human kids never left well enough alone. “Okay, you asked for it.” He took a deep breath, and started lying his ass off. “I was kicking around with a group of desert bandits. We were camped out along one of the major trading routes, attacking caravans that would come through. Usually merchants, we could always use the supplies. Occasionally, we would get some rich travelers. We’d strip them of their fancy shit and deliver them to their destination.” Renji glanced out of the corner of his eye to see if Chad was buying any of this bullshit. The young man’s face was, as always, inscrutable. He decided to press on.

“And one time, we got very lucky, or maybe unlucky, and attacked the carriage of young Lady Kuchiki, being shipped off to be married to some twelfth-cousin in District 3. Some of the others got greedy and decided to try to ransom her back to her rich brother. I had hurt my leg in a recent raid, so I got put on guard duty, since I couldn’t do much else. She wasn’t like the usual nobles we captured, whining and weeping. In fact, it turns out she was much more interested in being kidnapped by bandits than in being married off. We had to while away some hours, me and her, so I taught her some sword-fighting and knife-throwin’ and how to cuss. In return, she taught me about reiatsu and shinigami and how she could feel her brother stormin’ across the desert from twenty miles away, coming to get her. I’m sure you know for yourself that you can’t know Kuchiki Rukia for five minutes before you’re ready to die for her, so a’course I betrayed my fellow bandits and we had ‘em all tied up or dead when Captain Kuchiki rode up, streamin’ flower petals. Rukia wasn’t done, though. She told him she wasn’t gonna marry that guy, she was going to shinigami school and takin’ me with her, or she was gonna live out in the desert as a bandit queen. I ‘spose you know how that ended. She woulda made a killer bandit queen, though, if y'ask me. Her brother has never liked me too well, but he knows I have skills, which is why he picked me for his lieutenant.” Renji raised one eyebrow, and dared Chad to call him out.

Chad obliged. “There wasn’t a true word of that, was there?”

Renji flung his arms wide. “Who’s t’say? But if you can knock one o’ Zabi’s vertebrae out of the train, I’ll tell you another one.”

“It’s a deal.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Now that you are home,” Byakuya said mildly. “Would you like to resume your sword training?”

Rukia carefully finished chewing, and put her chopsticks down.

Orihime froze. These meals were always weirdly tense in a way that she couldn’t describe and Rukia didn’t seem to notice, and the tenseness had just gone through the roof. It was like Rukia and Byakuya had an extra kind of noble reiatsu that they were constantly using to smash each other to a pulp, along with everyone else who might be in the room.

“If you have time for me,” Rukia said slowly, “I would love to train further with you, Brother.”

Byakuya nodded, and started to return to his meal.

“But not at swords.”

He paused.

“I do hope to continue learning the form,” Rukia said, her voice very measured. “But I have come to realize that my kidou is inadequate. _Your_ combat kidou is known throughout the Soul Society, Brother. I would ask that you would tutor me.”

Byakuya frowned. “Your Captain says your kidou skills are perfectly appropriate for one of your position.”

“One of my position will not defeat an Espada in combat,” Rukia retorted, her voice light, but her words, a blade.

Byakuya’s eyes went wide. Orihime thought about putting up a _santun kesshun._

“I am close to mastering the double destruction chant, but I cannot quite get it. I need to improve the speed of my bakudou, so I can cripple an enemy before destroying them. I need to increase the damage from my hadou. Renji says you know how to disassemble wards with something called an inverse incantation?”

Byakuya tilted his head slightly, the barest of nods.

“I wish to learn that, too.”

“You are too ambitious, Rukia,” he said, returning his attention to his food.

“You think I cannot do it? Am I not a Kuchiki?” Rukia stared at him, daring him to meet her gaze. She had invoked their last name, which usually got to him.

“You were not born one. You know that I accept you as family unconditionally, Rukia, but that does not make your soul noble. You lack the power, the refinement of a pure-born soul.”

Rukia had a secret lever she had been saving for just this argument. “Renji got bankai. He came from the same place I did. Is his soul better than mine?”

Orihime shoved some food in her mouth. On one hand, this was terrifying. On the other hand, it was like being in a tv drama. She couldn’t tear her eyes away _._

“Bankai is not kidou mastery. His kidou is infantile.”

“Would you have taught him if he were any good at it?”

Byakuya sniffed. “I try not to teach him anything.”

Rukia smiled sweetly. “And _how is that working out for you?”_

Byakuya’s chopsticks froze halfway to his mouth. Abarai couldn’t even get off most of the double digit hadou, but he had remembered inverse incantations, a rather obscure technique Byakuya could only recall using once or twice in recent memory.

_“That was Senka, a shunpo with a spin for striking the enemy from behind. It’s your best move.”_

“ _I separated the joints to evade all one thousand of your blades._ ”

_“I know field rations aren’t your favorite, so I packed your fancy hot sauce. The one with the green label, not the red one.”_

Curse that low-born lunkhead, always _paying attention_!

“Everyone says how much he’s improved since you took him on. Some people even think you helped him get to bankai.”

“Enough, Rukia.”

“I can be better than him. Try me.”

Byakuya regarded his sister, his eyes icy. “We will meet down at the kidou butts at dawn. We will practice _rikujoukourou_ until you can perform it to my satisfaction. It is a very practical spell. If I sense for even a second that your resolve has wavered, I will cast it on you myself and leave you there.”

“Acceptable,” Rukia agreed with a curt nod. “Thank you, Brother. You will not regret it!”

“I already regret it. Now, can you please refrain from mentioning my odious lieutenant for the rest of the meal?”

“Of course, Brother.”

They both abruptly went back to their food, as though none of this had happened.

Orihime blinked owlishly. Ishida was not going to believe _any_ of this.

 

* * *

 

“You have to _punch_ it in the _face_ , Sado! I tell you, you’re not going to break it, the skull is the toughest part!”

 

* * *

 

 

“You need to keep picking up pieces of hair from the sides,” Orihime informed Rukia.

Rukia squinted at the various hanks of Orihime’s hair she had put in little clips. How did anyone do this without at least four arms? “I am terrible at this.”

“That’s okay,” Orihime replied. “I’ll do yours next, and it will be even worse. Tatsuki won’t let me do her hair, so this is a treat.”

“My maid won’t let me do her hair, either,” Rukia agreed. Perhaps with good reason.

“Rukia,” Orihime said slowly. “Thanks for spending so much time with me. It was nice enough for you to train me, but,” she sniffled, “you’ve been so kind to me, too. I really miss Tatsuki and Chad and Uryuu and… and… I’m sure you have better things to do, but it’s really helped that you’ve been spending time with me.” The person whose name was missing from that list was absolutely not lost on Rukia.

“We went out with some of my friends,” she pointed out. Unfortunately, Hanatarou was off on a mission, but they had hung out the Kotetsu sisters a few times. “They loved you.”

Orihime nodded frantically, hair flying everywhere.

Rukia didn’t like being vulnerable. She didn’t like admitting things, especially feelings-type things, but she could tell that this situation called for it. “To be perfectly honest…” she blew air out from between her teeth, and the next sentence came out very quickly, “Lately, I’ve been spending most of my free time with Renji and he’s not here and I’d be going crazy if I didn’t have you to hang out with.” There. Just like ripping off a bandage.

Orihime blinked. “Oh. You can at least text him, though? My phone doesn’t even work here.”

“I can,” Rukia admitted. “But cross-world texts aren’t very secure, so we’ve been avoiding talking about anything mission related, which is basically… everything.” She frowned. “Actually, we’ve just been sending each other increasingly long and nonsensical chains of emojis.” She pulled out her phone. “Like, what could this possibly mean?”

Orihime squinted at the text, sent at 8:45pm, Karakura Time, which read:

[ Ghost ] [ Shinigami ] [ Cake ] [ Skull ] [ Running person ] [ Rock ] [ Muscle arm ] [ Monkey ] [ Snake ] [ Sunglasses ] [ Ambulance ] [ Tombstone ]  

“Usually, when he uses monkey-snake-sunglasses, he means himself,” Rukia explained. “And I think the muscle arm might be Chad.”

“Maybe he’s running away with Chad and they’re getting married?” Orihime suggested.

“Maybe,” Rukia replied. “But why all the graves and skulls?”

“I figured they were guests at the wedding,” Orihime replied.

Rukia texted back [ Heart ] [ Ring ] [ Clinking beer glasses ] [ Fireworks ] [ Love hotel ]

“That’s obviously ‘congratulations’, right?” Rukia half-hoped that their texts _were_ being intercepted, and somewhere in Hueco Mundo, Gin Ichimaru was _very_ confused.

“Looks good to me,” Orihime confirmed. “I bet Renji knows how to do a French braid.”

“Arrrrgh,” Rukia groaned. “I bet you’re right.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, I think that’s right,” Renji said, popping Hihiou Zabimaru’s last vertebrae into place. When they got all mixed up, it was actually easier to dematerialize and re-materialize the whole thing, but he figured if he practiced enough, he would be able to correctly arrange them instinctively. In all the lectures about the difficulties of bankai he’d received over the years, no one had ever once mentioned memorizing snake anatomy. “You ready to go again?”

“Abarai,” Chad said slowly, staring at a point behind Renji’s left shoulder. “I think we’re being watched.”

“Huh?” Renji spun around. Two pair of golden eyes regarded them solemnly from atop an escarpment a few hundred yards away. “Oh. That’s, um. That’s Zabimaru.”

Chad’s eyes went to Renji’s bankai, and then back to the nue, sitting up on their hindquarters, the snake head swaying back-and-forth impatiently.

“Hey, buddy!” Renji called. “Whatcha doin’?”

“We are not your ‘buddy’,” the baboon head groused.

“We wanted to know what you are doing. You have been fighting against something that is like a zanpakutou, but not a zanpakutou,” the snake head went on.

“This’s Chad,” Renji replied, unhelpfully. Huh. As predicted, somewhere along the line, he had just started calling him ‘Chad.’ He had no memory of when this had occurred. “Chad, you don’t mind if Zabi checks you out?”

“What… is it?” Chad asked again.

“Them, not it. They’re the spirit of my zanpakutou. Without them, it would just be a sword.” Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “You have to learn to materialize your zanpakutou spirit if you wanna learn bankai, but they like bothering me, so they materialize a lot on their own.”

“You need a lot of guidance,” Zabimaru pointed out. They had disappeared from the escarpment and reappeared at his side.

“How are you even here? You know we’re in the World of the Living, not Soul Society, right?” Renji pointed out.

“Are we?” Zabimaru asked, not much bothered by the question. It occurred to Renji that, given its resemblance to Yoruichi’s training grounds in Soul Society, and the reishi-content of the air down here, maybe they’re _weren’t_ just in a big underground pit. A pocket dimension? A calved-off chunk of Soul Society?

Chad knelt a little, and held out the back of his hand, like he was greeting a dog.

Zabimaru padded over, and curiously sniffed it with the baboon nose. Then, Chad twisted his wrist around, and scritched the top of the baboon head.

Renji’s jaw dropped, and he waved his hands helplessly. To his shock, the baboon head leaned into Chad’s hand, and the rear legs began walking around, snake head extended. Chad got the message and started scratching the snake head under its chin with his other hand.

“Seriously?” Renji whinged.

“You are training our Renji?” the snake head asked. “Please also train him in giving scratches.”

“ _I’m_ training _him,_ ” Renji protested.

“A likely story,” the baboon head sniffed.

“What do they eat?” Chad asked.

“They’re a spirit,” Renji grumbled. “They can’t have real food.”

“Maybe we can,” the baboon head suggested.

“It is nice to be asked,” the snake head continued.

“You’ll get a stomachache,” Renji warned.

The snake head wriggled forward, and Chad scratched it further down its stomach. “Would you like to know the secrets of defeating Renji?” they asked, contented.

“Get outta here!” Renji howled.

“It’s giving you cookies, isn’t it?” Chad asked.

“How did you know?!”

 

* * *

 

Orihime sat cross-legged on the wooden spectator deck, watching the Kuchiki siblings hurl curses and countercurses at one another from behind the safety line. It was somewhat important that she attend their training, since Rukia would spend all afternoon hurling the same curses at _her_ , interspersed with sword attacks, to keep things “fun”, as she put it.

Orihime was training her _butt_ off, and she had no idea how Rukia was doing twice as much as she was. They were both improving, though. Rukia had performed Bakudo 61 to Byakuya’s satisfaction after a week, and he had immediately set about teaching her to combine it with a lower level bind that would allow her to get it off faster. There was a lot of strategy to kidou apparently, some of which Orihime found relevant to her own techniques.

“Ryoka!” Captain Kuchiki suddenly bellowed.

Orihime’s head jerked around. Was Ichigo here? Surely he didn’t mean her.

“Brother!” Rukia scolded.

Byakuya huffed. “Inoue Orihime! Please come here!”

Orihime untangled her legs and scampered over to them. “Yes, sir!”

“I would like to examine your shield. Are you amenable?”

Orihime glanced at Rukia. “He means he’s going to shoot spells at you and try to break it.”

Orihime looked at Rukia’s brother. His face was cool and impassive. She had seen what he threw at Rukia. Well, Rukia had gone to all the trouble to bring her here and bully Byakuya into helping, she might as well do her part. “I am amenable,” she replied, trying to sound as serious as she could.

Byakuya regarded her with half-lidded eyes. He was trying to determine if she was making fun of him, and ultimately decided she was not. It was difficult to tell with humans. “Please step back twenty paces. Rukia, behind the safety line, if you will.” The girls took their places. “Rukia, give us a three-count. Inoue Orihime, you will put up your shield. I will cast a _rikujoukourou_ at you. We shall see what falls out. Whenever you are ready, Rukia.

Byakuya stood passively, stiff as a marble statue.

Orihime’s hands hovered at her hips, like a gunfighter in a movie.

“Three… two… one… shoot!” Rukia called.

Orihime flung up her _santun kesshun_. One golden rod slammed into the front of her shield, and another glanced off at an angle. The other four slammed into her body, lifting her off the ground. Orihime experimentally tried wiggling various body parts. “This one’s still free!” she called, waving her right hand.

Byakuya nodded, and dismissed the spell. Orihime felt her feet make contact with the ground.

“We shall repeat, but this time, I shall use a _hainawa_ first.”

This time, all six blades got her. “Rats,” Orihime cursed.

“Practice this,” Byakuya told both of them. “I shall be very curious to hear, which happens first: if Inoue manages to block all six blades or Rukia makes a full pin.” In a rustle of silk, he departed for the Sixth.

“Captain Kuchiki!” Orihime called after him. “Captain Kuchiki! You forgot to let me go!”

“Hmm. Did I? Perhaps Rukia can be of help.”

 

* * *

 

Captain Kuchiki was supposed to ask him how the gigais were working out, and he was supposed to reply that they had taken a little longer to synchronize than expected, but seemed to be functioning well now.

Renji didn’t actually have any idea what kind of information he was shuttling back and forth between Urahara and his captain. He assumed it was something relevant to defeating Aizen, but for all he knew, Kuchiki was trying to buy some illicitly obtained Living World antiques. Renji felt that he should probably feel suspicious or irritated or put upon about the whole setup, but to be honest, it had been a long time since he ran a grift, and while this wasn’t quite the same, it was making him feel rather pleasantly nostalgic. At least it had, back when he could still slip the information into his electronic reports. Before they got this stupid _video link_.

Renji had been waiting very patiently, but Captain Kuchiki had some other things to get off his chest first.

“Why is everyone complaining about my duty rosters? It’s been non-stop complaints around here.”

Because you hired a bunch of complainers, Renji very wisely did not say.

“Everyone says they like the way you do it better. They’re _duty rosters_ , what value could you possibly add?”

“Oh…” Renji said noncommittally. “I make up the duty-rosters on a monthly basis, and I do that, and the chore roster and everyone’s training schedule at the same time, so that on weeks when people have a heavy mental load, they get the more physical sort of chores, and when they’re in more intense training, I give them a lighter--”

“That sounds terrible, I refuse to do that,” Byakuya interrupted.

“Then make Ohno make up the duty rosters, and sic the complainers on him,” Renji suggested.

“Excellent. These are the solutions I like, Lieutenant.”

“Hey, Captain, look, about the gi--”

“I had to go into your file cabinet.”

“You don’t need to go in my file cabinet, I left out all the folders you would need on top of my desk.”

“I needed your monthly from August, because I am auditing the certifications log.”

“It’s under ‘A’, for August.”

“I _know_ , and _why_ would anyone _do_ that? Are you a _chaos demon_?”

Hitsugaya and Matsumoto were hiding in the kitchen.

“I have said some harsh things about your attitude toward paperwork,” Matsumoto admitted. “And I am sorry.”

“This is _excessive_ ,” Hitsugaya shuddered.

Captain Kuchiki consulted his list. He had a _list._ “You said to leave 18th Seat Gotou in charge of getting the training supplies inventoried, and he says he keeps _forgetting_.”

“That was a mistake,” Renji admitted. “If you want 18th Seat Gotou to do something, you have to order 7th Seat Gotou to do it. Then 7th Seat Gotou will bully 18th Seat Gotou into doing it.” They were brothers, obviously.

Byakuya sighed. “I _suppose_ that’s it.” He consulted his list. “Oh, right. How are the gigai holding up?”

“They took a little longer to synchronize than expected, but everything seems to be functioning well now,” Renji replied off-handedly.

“I shall pass that on to Captain Kurotsuchi,” Byakuya replied, tucking his list into his haori. “Anything else, Lieutenant? I have left the squad alone for an entire thirty minutes, which means someone will probably be _on fire_ by the time I get back.”

“Um, would you mind, uh, telling Rukia I said ‘hi’?”

“I _will not_ ,” Byakuya sniffed. “She’s right here. I think Ms. Inoue has something to tell Captain Hitsugaya about ‘putting out the recyclables.’”   

Orihime’s head popped onto the screen. “Is it my turn? Finally?”

“Hey, Squad 10, you can come out now!” Renji shouted in the direction of Orihime’s kitchen. Hitsugaya and Matsumoto tumbled out the door.

Captain Kuchiki sauntered off screen, replaced by Orihime’s sunny smile.

“You having a good time, Orihime?” Renji asked, while Squad 10 disentangled their limbs.

“Oh, yes!” Orihime nodded. She flexed her arm, showing off a bicep roughly the diameter of Renji’s thumb. “I’m getting strong! Oh, oh! I made you a new bandana! I tried to get Captain Kuchiki to leave it on your desk for you, but he refused. Rukia’s holding onto it for you, instead. Oh, Rukia, why are you back there?”  Orihime reached off-screen, and pulled Rukia into view. “Say ‘hi’, silly,” Orihime hissed.

“Hi,” Rukia managed.

“Hi, Rukiaaa!” Matsumoto replied, having finally regained her feet.

Renji didn’t say anything, but he winked at her, which had the effect of making her cheeks go pink.

“Recyclables!” Orihime shouted, and both Renji and Rukia jumped slightly. “Go out on Thursdays!”

“That’s all of Matsumoto’s soda cans, right?” Hitsugaya asked.

“They aren’t all mine!”

“Are you putting them in green plastic bin under the sink?”

Renji knew his business was over and he could either head back to Urahara’s, or duck into the kitchen to steal one of Matsumoto’s colas, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Rukia. She flashed him a small smile, tucking a piece of hair behind one ear.

Orihime was gesturing wildly, now, and saying something about air filters.

Renji waggled his eyebrows at Rukia. She crossed her eyes at him.

“Rangiku, are you wearing my sweater?”

“It looks good on me?”

“It does! It looks very good on you!”

Renji realized he was staring at Rukia, but she didn’t seem to care. In fact, she was staring back at him. He hated this. He wanted this mission to be over. He wanted to go up to the Red Hollow Gate overlook with her and see if more of the trees had turned. He wanted to sit on the edge of Ugendou Pond with her and toss bread crumbs at the fish. He wanted to kiss her again, maybe even sober this time. Maybe… maybe if they lived through all this… maybe--

“Renji. Renji!” Orihime was trying to get his attention.

“Sorry!” he said, shaking his head and snapping to attention.

Orihime regarded him very seriously. “You haven’t heard from Ichigo, have you? Or Uryuu?”

Renji shook his head sadly. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Well, it can’t be helped. Please, though, can you tell Chad I miss him? And I know you don’t know Tatsuki, but tell Chad to tell her that I miss her too, okay?”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Orihime glanced behind her. “Tell Chad that Rukia misses him, too.”

“Orihime!”

“She likes to act tough, but she really, really,” Orihime leaned forward. “ _Really_ misses him.”

“I know how she is,” Renji agreed. “I’ll pass it on. He really, _really_ misses her, too, I think.”

Rukia swallowed, and managed a weak smile.

Orihime waved an enthusiastic and seemingly oblivious farewell. “Okaaaaay! Talk to you next week!”

The screen went black.

Renji realized what he had just said, and who he had just said it in front of. Slowly, he swiveled his head to the side.

Rangiku was making an impossibly schmoopy face at him.

“Shut up,” said Renji.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Matsumoto!” Toushirou snapped.

“Whaaaaat? I didn’t!”

“Be nice to Abarai.”

Renji blinked.

“We need him to help us change that air filter.” Hitsugaya frowned. “We can’t reach it.”

~ end part 4


	5. Chapter 5

When Chad arrived at the Urahara Shoten, Renji was standing outside in his gigai, waiting for him.

“Are we training today?” Chad asked.

“I wanna do something different,” Renji replied. “Can we go to your gym?”

“My gym?” Chad echoed.

“Yeah. I want you to teach me the game you like where we wear padded gloves and hit each other in the face.”

Chad cocked his head to one side. “Boxing?”

“Sure,” Renji replied.

“I could do that downstairs.”

“You could. But I want to see you in your element. I want to fight in human bodies, in a ring, with rules and equipment, and the all stuff you are used to.”

Chad had been boxing for a long time. He was the top guy he knew in his weight class. Abarai was not in his weight class. “Your funeral.”

Renji grinned wolfishly. “That’s what I'm hoping.”

 

* * *

 

 

In some ways, Renji was a natural at boxing. He was quick on his feet, he had good reach, and when his blows connected, they were devastating. He had a little trouble with the rules, though.

“You aren’t allowed to hit people in the back,” Chad moaned, rubbing his kidneys.

“Sorry,” Renji apologized, for the umpteenth time. He tried to rub the back of his head, but the glove got in the way and knocked his bandana into his eyes.

“Let’s go again.”

Renji got his bandana adjusted, and popped up, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He came out aggressively, putting Chad on the defense. Chad held his ground, maintaining his distance. Abarai fought a lot like the kids from his youth-- bold and showy, trying to make up for a lack of skill with bravado. Chad had been fighting him for weeks, though, and knew that this was itself a show to hide the trick up his sleeve, and then the other trick that he would pull out when the first one didn’t work. Chad was ready, then, when the shinigami appeared to overbalance on his right foot, and followed up the feinted cross with a lightning-quick right jab. He was also ready when Abarai then attempted to sweep his feet. Chad sidestepped easily, and landed a crushing left hook right in Renji’s face.

“I knew it!” Renji hooted triumphantly.

“Abarai.”

“You defend with your right side and you attack with _your left_!”

“You need to pinch your nose, Abarai, and tilt your head back.”

“We just need to start working on your other side!”

They had attracted attention from some of the other gym-goers.

“Hey, Sado, is your friend okay?”

“That hit was brutal, how is guy still standing?”

“Does anyone know where the first aid kit is?”

Renji looked down at the rather large amount of blood that was pooling at his feet. “Hey, is all that coming out of me?”

And then he passed out.

 

* * *

 

 

“A gigai is not your spirit body, Abarai. It can take more damage than a human’s, but that’s no reason to _test it_ ,” Tessai scolded.

“I feel great,” Renji proclaimed. He was leaning backward on his elbows so his head was nearly upside down. There were two massive wads of cotton stuffed up his nostrils.

“That’s about to change,” Tessai replied. He put on hand on either side of Renji’s nose and made a sharp motion.

“OWowowowowowow!” Renji howled.

“No more training for today,” Tessai warned. “I’m still not convinced you don’t have a concussion. I’m going to go get you some pain medicine.”

“Wort’ it, dhough,” Renji sniffled.

“I don’t understand,” Chad admitted. “I already knew that my left arm is generally stronger than my right when I’m not powered up. How is this helpful?”

“We jus’ deed to figger out,” Renji snorted, “how do power up your left arb.”

Oh. Was that all?

 

* * *

 

 

The office was quiet.

So very, _very_ quiet.

Third Seat Ohno sat at a makeshift desk he had set up in the corner, because Byakuya wouldn’t let him touch Renji’s. Every so often, he would look up from his work and smile, hopefully.

No one had said the words “Hey, Captain!” in weeks. Usually, every five minutes, it was “Hey, Captain!” “HEY! CAPTAIN!” “Hey, Captain?”

Byakuya read the page in front of him for the third time in a row. He gave up and slammed the folder closed.

Ohno looked up, expectantly.

“Is anything… happening?” Byakuya asked, testily. “News? Anything interesting? Around the squad?”

“Um, ummmm,” Ohno scrabbled. “My youngest sister, Tsumugi, will be having her coming out--”

“I do not need family news from you, thank you.”

“I did a surprise inspection on the 2nd Barracks, like you asked. It was very bad.”

“What did you do about it?”

Ohno blinked. “I, uh, told them to clean it up and I would be back to check again tomorrow?”

Byakuya frowned. Did the man have no creativity? No pride in his work?

“18th Seat Gotou finally turned in that equipment inventory. Except that I thought 7th Seat Gotou was supposed to do it?”

Byakuya sighed.

“Oh. Um. I guess we lost the futsal game yesterday? Kuchiki was complaining about it all morning.”

“What?!” Byakuya slammed his hands on his desk and stood up.

Ohno jumped. “I didn’t know you cared about the futsal team, sir! I didn’t know you knew we _had_ a futsal team!”

“I care about all matters in which Squad 6 proves its superiority over other squads! Weren’t we undefeated? What happened?” As if Byakuya wasn’t painfully familiar with the doings of the futsal team, whether he wanted to be or not. _Hey! Captain!_

Ohno looked blank. “I don’t know, sir. I can get Kuchiki in here.”

Byakuya slumped back in his chair again. “It doesn’t matter. I know what happened.”

“Could I, uh, make you some tea? Sir?”

No one makes tea as poorly as Abarai does, Byakuya thought sadly. “Fine.”

Ohno scrambled up and started digging through the tea cabinet. “You have such a fine selection, sir. What would you like today?”

Byakuya recalled something. “There should be a cardboard box in there. In the back. It should have a lion printed on it. The lion is wearing clothing. And drinking tea.”

Ohno made a horrified face, as he shuffled past wooden and lacquer boxes of the Seireitei’s most rare and exquisite teas. Finally, he pulled out the slightly crushed carton of the finest West Rukongai’s 24th district had to offer. It was half empty. “This tea is in _bags_ , sir,” Ohno informed him, scandalized.

“Perfect,” Byakuya replied. “Please heat some water to approximately the temperature of the sun, and leave two of those bags in it for at least forty-five minutes.” Abarai would then spoon roughly a quarter cup of sugar into that sludge, but Byakuya had not yet fallen _that_ low.

“That sounds... awful, sir.”

Byakuya stared at him. “Are you telling me how I should take my tea, Ohno?”

“Oh, no, sir, I would never!” He began selecting an elegant tea cup from an upper shelf.

“Ohno, you can’t drink Rukongai dirt tea out of fine china.”

Ohno’s eyes went wide. “What… do you use, sir?”

“They are on the very top shelf. You may need to use a stool.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, painedly, and standing on his tip-toes, Ohno pulled out a mug that declared “Messy Hair, Don’t Care,” in a sassy font. “Is this one okay?”

“Absolutely not.” Byakuya didn’t even know where most of the mugs in that cabinet had even come from; Abarai always used the same one, a promotional item from a dojo equipment supplier that had shuttered roughly 30 years prior.

Ohno tried again. This one was emblazoned with seashells and the words ‘Beach, Please’. “How about this one?”

“That,” Byakuya replied, “will do nicely.”

 

* * *

 

 

“This is horrific. This is an outrage,” Yumichika tossed his hands in the air. “Matsumoto and I have been working our rumps off--”

“Did you just say ‘rump’?”

“--trying to get our zanpakutous to materialize, with nothing! Zilch! And I come here, and find you and your _thing_ here, just…”

“Kickin’ it,” Renji suggested. Zabimaru was stretched out on the rocky ground, and Renji was leaning against them, one arm flung behind him, absently scratching the snoozing nue’s hindquarters. Chad had brought them some kind of biscuits, which they had eaten all of, and then fallen asleep. Renji hadn’t even known they could sleep.

Ikkaku ran by, screaming.

“ _El Directo!”_

Ikkaku went flying back in the other direction. Still screaming.

“That’s not half-bad,” Yumichika observed. “You taught him that?”

Renji shrugged. “Helped him figure it out. He was most of the way there.”

Ikkaku had been getting restless, so he and Yumichika had come down to the training grounds to hassle them. Renji was perfectly happy to let Chad punch someone else for a change.

“So, are you _seriously_ trying to get bankai, or are you faking it? For some reason?”

Yumichika twirled one hand half-heartedly. “Ehn?”

“Your zanpakutou is never going to materialize if you don’t stop being a dick to it. And you don’t even use your shikai most of the time, what are you going to do when your bankai turns out to be a kidou thing?”

“I swear I do not know what you are talking about.”

“You’re not even good at keeping it a secret. You used it against _Hisagi."_

“I knew I should have killed him.”

“I think Ikkaku is the only one who doesn’t know.”

Yumichika sighed. “Probably. But he’s the only one who matters.”

Renji looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. Yumichika and Ikkaku almost never so much as mentioned their relationship, but maybe it was such a part of them that it didn’t merit discussion. “Did you really think he was going to die, the other day?”

Yumichika rolled his eyes. “Hardly.”

“You ever think about… y’know, the worst? I mean, it’s not like he makes good decisions.”

“Every day he’s still alive is like a miracle,” Yumichika replied, drily. He glanced over, and noticed, with horror, the melancholy etched on Renji’s face. “Oh, Abarai, no. Snap out of it. Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“You’re in love and you’re having some morbid existential crisis.”

“I’m not--” Renji started to protest. Yumichika raised one elegant eyebrow. “Having a morbid existential crisis,” he finished lamely. “We might really die, you know.”

“Of course I know that. _I_ am in Squad 11, where we are always ready to die. You’ve been spending too much time with those noble dumbfucks, putting in their time so they can get their fancy military title and then retire and decorate their stupid, beautiful estates.”

“I feel like there’s a middle ground you’re neglecting.”

Yumichika leaned forward. “There is no middle ground. Almost dying is what makes everything else so good. You fight and you drink and you fight and you smush and you make yourself beautiful and you go out and fight again.”

“Did you just say ‘smush’?”

“ _Someone_ has forbidden me from using the term ‘make love.’ “

Renji wrinkled his nose. “‘Smush’ is better.”

“Look, the strange woman we live with keeps making us watch these movie things-- do you know what they are?”

“Yeah, Chad showed me one. There was a kid, and he finds this huge robot in the woods--.”

“I don’t care, Abarai. All the ones she likes involve some annoying woman getting kidnapped or captured or whatever, and some hideous man has to leave the farm that he loves to go rescue her with guns. First of all, whoever makes these things are very sexist to assume that the woman gets to be the beautiful one, but also, they seem to think it is romantic to be rescued or perhaps to do rescuing.”

“Doing rescues is kinda romantic,” Renji admitted.

Yumichika narrowed his eyes. “It has nothing on leaping into battle with your true love, fighting for your lives, saving each other, stabbing people in the face.” Yumichika gazed fondly at Ikkaku, who was clinging to Chad’s back and trying to kick him in the head.

“You had me right up to that last part.”

“It’s happening to you right now,” Yumichika pointed out. “You were going on fine, ‘oh, we’re just friends,’ blah blah blah, and now there’s a battle on the horizon, and you’re all worked up. I bet you’ve even been thinking of _skipping_ some of the steps in your 316-point plan to impress her brother that you think is some sort of prerequisite to smushing.”

“That’s not--”

“I bet you’ve even thought about,” he gasped scandalously, “ _kissing_ her.”

Renji made a face of Deep Disapproval.

“The sad thing is,” Yumichika sighed, “you two are going to pull out some A+ heroics. Entrances! Speeches! You _know_ I do not respect you in the least, but you do have a very sexy battle presence.”

“I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to know what that means.”

“And your girl’s zanpakutou?” Yumichika rolled his eyes. “I will admit that I am jealous, it’s _gorgeous._  Her release? Ugh!” He smirked. “And you’re gonna get back home, and you’re not even going to smush, it’s gonna be, WELP, it sure is great being _best friends_ , guess it’s back to step 11 of the plan, alphabetizing Captain Kuchiki’s socks.”

“Why do I even talk to you?”

“ _I_ certainly don’t know! If you wanted to be depressed, you should have called up Kira. I am here for beauty tips only, and you don’t even take advantage.”

Renji was quiet for a long time. “Maybe I would if your hair didn’t look like trash.”

“Oh, _shut up!_ What are you using for conditioner anyway, you monster? The shops in this place are _wretched_!”

Ikkaku went flying past once again.

 

* * *

 

 

It was wearing on toward late afternoon, and Rukia and Orihime were both exhausted. The day was not exactly warm, but maybe warmer than it would be for a while. They sat by Ugendou Pond, watching the koi snapping at the last of the dragonflies, and feeling the aches in their arms and legs.

“Orihime, would you like to try something a little strange?” Rukia asked.

“What sort of thing?” Orihime asked. Every single thing they did was strange, what was one more?

“Well,” Rukia started, “it’s interesting that your power manifests itself as fairies that exist in the normal world and talk to you.”

“It’s nice, I think,” Orihime decided. “Although it’s not so nice when they get hurt.”

Rukia nodded. “Shinigami must generally go into our inner worlds to talk to our zanpakutou. Forcing them to manifest in the outer world is an advanced skill, part of gaining bankai. I was wondering if you had an inner world.”

Orihime’s eyes widened. “Oh, do you think I do? That would be so cool! Would it be a nice place, do you think?”

Rukia was thoughtful for a moment. “I am sure yours would be a nice place.”

That was a curious way to put it. “Isn’t yours?”

“If I described it to you, you might not think so. It feels good to be there, though. It is my home, I am my truest self there.”

“Can I try to go to mine?” Orihime asked hopefully.

“That’s what I wanted to do. Here, sit like this.” Rukia crossed her legs, and rested Sode no Shirayuki over her knees. “It’s traditional to put your sword like so. Maybe you should just leave your hair clips where they are, though. What do you think?”

Orihime unclipped them, and set one on each knee. “I want to try it this way, so they know I’m doing something special!”

“Renji taught me a little trick for helping people with this, but I’m not sure it will work for a first trip-- you’re supposed to have some idea of what you inner world is like, first. But maybe you could imagine it? I’ll want you to close your eyes and describe what you’re imagining. Then I’ll go into my inner world, and if this works, you’ll just slip into yours, too.”

“Oh, Rukia, that’s so clever!” Orihime clapped her hands.

“It can’t be that clever, Renji came up with it,” Rukia dismissed.

Orihime’s good humor was immune to pessimism. She closed her eyes, and cleared her throat. “It’s a donut shop,” she proclaimed confidently. “The fancy kind, where they make donuts that look like hedgehogs and red pandas and flowers. It smells pink and sugary! There’s coffee brewing also, and you can get it with as much foamed milk as you want, and they always spell my name right on the cup. You probably can’t have friends in your inner world, so in mine, it feels like I'm waiting to meet my friends and they’ll be there any minute. Also, it’s my birthday.”

Rukia hoped, desperately, that Orihime’s inner world was real and that it was exactly as described. Wordlessly, she eased into her own, which smelled absolutely nothing like donuts.

   

She was hit by the familiar arctic blast that accompanied entering her inner world. Since regaining her powers, Rukia couldn’t get enough of that feeling. She took a moment to look around her home-away-from-home. All was as she expected: the grey, dusty sky, pregnant with snow. The massive frozen waterfall, looming overhead, spiky and foreboding. The pines, crowded around, giving a sense of coziness and solitude. The still pond, radiating an unearthly cold. The elegant, pale woman, her ornate, layered kimono hitched up around her knees so she could dangle her toes in the water. Every muscle in Rukia’s body seized.

Sode no Shirayuki was a bit... _hands off,_  as far as zanpakutou went. She rarely appeared in human form, preferring to perch in the trees as a snowy owl, or to snuffle about in the stiff grass as a marten in its winter coat. Rukia hadn’t seen her in this form for years.

The ice spirit turned her crystalline gaze to Rukia’s small, scruffy self. “Hello, Rukia. Please, come join me.”

Rukia made her way to the edge of the pond, and slowly removed her socks and sandals. Delicately, she sat down on the ground, and plunged her own feet into the water. There was a curious sensation of pleasant, refreshing coolness superposed with the burn of flesh-blackening frostbite.

“It’s been a while,” Sode no Shirayuki observed pleasantly. She was drinking something from a lovely little white teacup, the china so delicate it was nearly transparent.

“I missed you when you were gone,” Rukia murmured in a tiny voice. “For a while, I thought you were dead.”

Sode no Shirayuki regarded her. “I was.”

Rukia blinked. “Oh.”

“I have decided it is time for you to know something more of my nature, and thus something of your own strength,” the ice spirit declared. “Rukia, perhaps you have observed that I have never asked you to fight me.”

Rukia nodded. Shirayuki was an outlier in that regard, as well.

“It is not my nature to win by domination, but to succumb and rise again.”

Rukia played with the edges of her sleeves. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You fear death.”

Rukia startled. “I...yes. It didn’t used to be so, but… something has changed. I don’t know.”

Shirayuki smiled kindly. “Life includes much loss, and you have had more than your share. Renji was lost to you. Kaien was lost to you. Hisana was lost before you ever knew her, and Byakuya refused to give himself in her place. Even I was lost to you. It is easy to care little for yourself when you have few ties.” She took a sip from her cup. “But things have improved since then. You have friends again. _Nakama._ ”

“I am afraid to lose them,” Rukia admitted. “I opened my heart a crack, and they pried it wide open.”

“But you mustn’t fear,” Shirayuki continued. “If they are lost, or if you are lost, it is not the end.”

Rukia thought of the pain of Kaien's death. The despair in her heart when she left Ichigo behind, hoping he would manage not to bleed to death in the rain. The horror of seeing her brother pierced through by Gin's blade. “I don’t think I can--”

“You can. We accept death and survive it, Rukia. It is who we are, you and I. The only way you can defeat me, Rukia, is to accept me. It is not easier than combat.”

Rukia swallowed. “Sode no Shirayuki?”

“Yes, my precious?”

“You were dead. Really dead?”

“Yes.”

“Zabimaru brought you back.”

The zanpakutou spirit stiffened. “Perhaps, a bit. They helped. It was you that revived me.”

Rukia opened and closed her hands, trying to form the question she wanted to ask. “How? Renji said they seemed to know you, but you’re inside me and they’re… inside Renji?”

Sode no Shirayuki took a sip from her cup. “The process of becoming one with your sword gives us shape and form. Before that time, we are more… loosely bound to you. We have nature, but we do not even know our own names. You and Renji lived a delicate, precarious existence. It was then that Zabimaru and I came to know one another. You both would have died the true death many times over if we had not...intervened.”

“They seemed pretty mad at you.”

Sode no Shirayuki chuckled, her voice low and throaty. “Zabimaru’s nature is, in many ways, complementary to my own. They are chaotic, I am orderly. They are flexible, I am rigid. They are composite, I am pure. They rage against all adversity, and I surrender in order to rise again at a more advantageous time. You would not think us very compatible, would you?”

“I guess not,” Rukia frowned. She wasn’t sure why she found that somewhat unsatisfying.

“But, recall that we come from the core of your soul, yours and Renji’s. And at that deep root, the two of you are very similar indeed. Perhaps it is our influences that have made you into the different people you are today. You could even think of us as different directions you could have taken.” From somewhere that Rukia couldn’t see, Sode no Shirayuki produced a second teacup, identical to her own. “You mustn’t be afraid for him, Rukia. Zabimaru will take care of him. And you mustn’t be afraid for yourself. I will take care of you, but I can only share my strength when you have fully given yourself up to death.”  She handed Rukia the teacup. There was a dark smoke swirling in the bottom of the cup, cold and malignant. “Your sword may shatter, but I, your true blade, cannot be broken. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Rukia replied.

“Then drink up. I will see you soon.”

Rukia closed her eyes and poured the smoke down her throat. It tangled around her windpipe, and she gagged and gasped as her inner world went dark around her.

 

Rukia’s eyes shot open, and her lungs wheezed like a bellows.

“Are you okay?” Orihime asked, eyes wide.

Rukia panted for a moment, trying to calm her racing heart. “I… am... alive,” she croaked. That was not what she had meant to say.

Orihime looked pale, but not as pale as Rukia felt. The younger girl clutched Rukia’s hands with her own. “It’s okay, Rukia! Please be okay! I’m sorry I messed things up!”

Rukia took a deep, ratcheting breath, and let it out again more smoothly. She cleared her throat. “I’m okay. And you didn’t mess anything up!”

“I didn’t get to my inner world,” Orihime apologized.

“It’s okay! I told you it might not work,” Rukia replied, flipping her hands around to hold Orihime’s. “It turns out that Sode no Shirayuki had something to tell me. She can be, um. A lot. Sometimes.”

“What does it mean when your zanpakutou has something to tell you?” Orihime whispered. “Is it good or bad?”

Rukia re-ran the conversation in her head. “Yes. It is good. Or bad. Or both.”

“Can we go back to your house now? I thought about donuts too much, and now I’m hungry.”

Rukia untangled her legs stiffly. “Ah, yes, that sounds like a good idea. We don’t really have donuts in Soul Society, but we might get home early enough to pester the cook into making some dessert. Brother hates sweets, so it’s up to us.”

“You don’t have donuts?! That’s awful! No wonder I couldn’t get to my inner world! Maybe I have to get there from the Living World, do you think?”

“Could be,” Rukia shrugged, situating Sode no Shirayuki on her hip. “With you, I think anything is possible.”

 

* * *

 

 

October 15 dawned crisp and slightly cloudy over Karakura Town. Frost crusted the grass. Renji sat on the front step of the Urahara Shoten, cradling a mug of coffee in his hands. He’d discovered that Tessai brewed a pot every morning and proceeded to drink almost none of it, so he started helping himself. He had gotten used to it.

“‘S cold out here,” Chad said, ambling up.

“Yeah, but it’s not winter, yet,” Renji replied, hunched in his jacket. “You gotta fight for every day of fall or winter wins.”

“You fight the seasons?”

“I fight everything.”

Chad smiled. He had grown to like this strange, rough ghost who was teaching him how to fight everything, too. “I knocked that rock off your head yesterday. You owe me another story.”

“Oh, so I do,” Renji sighed, stretching his legs. “I got a big day of training planned today. We’re going hard. You sure you want to start things off with my horseshit?”

“Seems perfect.”

Renji inhaled the steam from his coffee. “Okay. Here is a true story about Kuchiki Rukia.” He almost always started off that way. It almost never was, but he was in a strange mood today. “Sometimes, in the summer, we used to go live in the woods, me an’ Rukia an’ the guys.”

“The guys” had come up in several previous stories, and Chad suspected they had some basis in actual people.

“One year, we found this bee hive. It was real high in a tree, and there were just a shitload of bees around it constantly. We tried to climb that tree about a thousand times, and just ended up with scratched legs and bee stings for our trouble.

"Fall rolls around, and it’s time to go back to the city. It was always a shock going back to the city, finding a squat, fighting to get all your old territory back. Anyway, we’ve been back maybe a week, we’re walking around, making our presence known, and this big motherfucker, Watanabe Yuuto, says something _extremely rude_ about our Rukia.” He took a sip of his coffee. It was still too hot.

“So, you may not believe this part, but Rukia, in those days, mostly ignored this kinda shit, which she got a lot of. She didn’t want us getting in fights over her honor, mostly ‘cause she was the one who would have to patch us up later. But this thing he said, it was _extremely rude_ , and like I said, we were just back in the city, and Mameji just wasn’t havin’ it, and launches himself at Watanabe. Fujimaru and Kosaburou are right behind him, and it’s not like I was gonna let them take him on by themselves.

"Keep in mind, I was between growth spurts at this point. I’m maybe 5’6”, a buck-fifty, max, and I’m the tank of our group.  Watanabe is built about like you, and he’s got two pals with him. We got _mangled_. I think we ended the day with two broken noses, a buncha cracked ribs, and five broken fingers.

"Rukia reams us out, o’ course (as if she wasn’t the one who left tooth marks Watanabe’s ear), and stomps off. She’s gone all night and all o’ the next day, and we’re starting to get kinda worried. We’re talking about if we should maybe go out and try to find her, when she kicks open the door of the squat and she’s _carrying the beehive_. She went back to the fuckin’ woods, climbed that motherfuckin’ tree _by herself_ , and hauls this thing back for us."

He closed his eyes and smiled. "Holy smokes, that honeycomb is probably the best thing I have ever tasted. I still think about it.” He shook his head. “We were pullin’ stingers outta her for _days_. We would take turns, there were so many. Anyway, that’s Rukia. You can’t do a single nice thing for her without her going balls to the wall back atcha.” Renji looked up at Chad, who was regarding him with narrowed eyes. “What?”

Chad shook his head, disbelieving. How, on Earth and Soul Society combined, could Kuchiki possibly think this guy wasn’t into her?

Renji took a big slurp of his drink. “Not gonna call me a liar today?”

“That one seemed… true-ish.”

“Joke’s on you, I was _never_ 5’6”.” Renji stretched, his back popping. “Let’s go fight. Today, I’m in the mood to just beat the shit outta each other until neither of us can move.”

Chad nodded amiably. “Sounds good t’me.”

 

* * *

 

 

October 15 was 33 days after the Advance Team came to the World of the Living.

Kurosaki Ichigo could maintain his Hollowfication for exactly 11 seconds.

Inoue Orihime could block five rods of Rukia’s best _rikujoukourou_ , three of Byakuya’s, and was just beginning to feel confident about her fighting abilities.

Kuchiki Rukia could cast Hado 73 without incantantation _,_ Hados 4 and 61 as a double destruction chant _,_ and had learned the name of her zanpakutou’s third dance, although she had no practical way to attempt it.

Ishida Uryuu had regained his Quincy powers, learned to summon the bow _Ginrei Kojaku_ and thoroughly cased his father’s collection of cool Quincy shit.

Sado “Chad” Yasutora had refined his right arm’s energy blasts into an attack that he named “el Directo”. He could feel the first stirrings of an even greater power in his left arm, but had not yet managed to realize it.

Abarai Renji had told Sado “Chad" Yasutora eleven completely apocryphal tales of how he had come to meet Kuchiki Rukia, and an additional four versions that had at least some grain of truth to the them. He had also broken the nose of his gigai.

They thought they had two more months.

On October 15, four Arrancars opened a Garganta over Karakura Town.

Rukia was desperate to join the battle, but she paused on her way her squad’s senkaimon to reassure Orihime, who, due to her material body, had to take the Dangai instead. “Don’t look like that, Orihime,” she grinned. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

   

~ end part 5


	6. Epilogue

“ _Yare, yare_ ,” Captain Zaraki groaned. “What a waste of my fucking time. Anything good happen in the World of the Living?”

“Boring, mostly,” Yumichika shrugged.

“These Arrancar are prob’ly gonna put up a worthwhile fight,” Ikkaku suggested hopefully.

“Y’think?”

“They’re numbered. You only need to bother with the ones under ten.”

“That was nice o’ them.”

“We’ll catch up with you, later, Abarai!” Ikkaku called, as his captain began to saunter off in a direction that did not lead to the Squad 11 barracks. He winked at Rukia. “You, too, Kuchiki.”

Captain Hitsugaya looked at Renji, whose visage was stony, and Rukia, pale and nearly shaking with anger. Then Byakuya caught his eye, and some unspoken understanding passed between them. “C’mon, Matsumoto. Let’s go see how much of our division is left standing.” He turned on his heel and started walking.

Matsumoto spared a sympathetic glance to her friends. “I don’t believe for a second she’s a traitor!” she blurted out, and then dashed after her captain.

Byakuya looked from his sister to his lieutenant, and then back to his sister. These transparent dolts. “Attend me well, both of you,” he said. “Rash actions will do nothing for your friends. They are locking down the squad senkaimon, tracking all movements in and out. If you try to return to the Living World now, you will be caught and thrown in the brig.” His eyes shifted back to Renji. “If you work out your day’s shift, file your mission reports, you’ll have hours before you’re missed.” Rukia again. “The captain-commander has not bothered to bully me about our private senkaimon. Perhaps he has forgotten that I have one.”

“Brother…” Rukia gasped. “Why…?”

Byakuya minutely adjusted his scarf. “My orders were to bring you back, not stop you from going again. Do as you please. Just don’t be fools about it.”

“Thank you, Brother,” Rukia murmured.

“Report to your captain, Rukia. Get as much detail about her disappearance as you can. I will see you this evening. Come along, Lieutenant, you have quite the pile of paperwork awaiting you.”

Renji spared a look at Rukia. She managed a mirthless smile at him, a smile that said she was looking forward to breaking someone’s arm, an expression Byakuya _did not like_ marring his sister’s lovely face. Then, Renji returned a similar expression, and Rukia’s eyes gleamed. It hit Byakuya, like a punch to the stomach, that there were depths to Rukia she had hidden from him, her brother. Depths that Abarai knew well. He _did not like_ _that_ , indeed. Abarai gave Rukia a little nod, and then fell in step behind his superior.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Byakuya said under his breath. “And you are wrong. It is neither kindness nor sympathy. It is pragmatism. You have been out of the office for _a month_ , and it is an _utter_ _shambles_. If I left you to your own devices, you would spend the whole day devising ill-formed plans, and I’d be forced to go through the tiresome humiliation of _catching you_. If I just agree to let you use my senkaimon up front, maybe you’ll find the time to make me a functional duty roster and explain your nonsensical filing system before you go.”

Renji managed a grunt that could be very generously interpreted as a “Yes, sir.” He couldn’t imagine getting through a whole day of paperwork with his hands clenched into fists. Maybe Byakuya would let him go bully the officers into submitting their monthly expense reports.

“Oh, Lieutenant? Did that foul little man ever answer the question you asked him?”

Renji sucked his teeth. “Nope. But he stopped me on the way out this morning, and said ‘Just a few more odd jobs, four at most, and I would have told you.’ “

Byakuya considered this. “Good. Thank you, Abarai. You have been more helpful than you know.”

Renji gritted his teeth. “This whole mission was a shit-show.”

Byakuya shrugged. “ _Is_ , Abarai. This entire operation _is_ a shit-show. It will likely get worse before it’s over.”

The two men walked the rest of the way to the division in silence.

 

* * *

 

 

If any of the servants found it strange that Lord Kuchiki’s ill-favored deputy followed him home, there was no sign of it. They bustled about, welcoming his Lordship home, but Byakuya waved them off. One of them handed him a large bundle, which he accepted.

“Listen to me,” he said softly, as he led Renji through the labyrinthine hallways of the house. “I take no responsibility for you. When you return, I will not speak for you.” A slightly pained look crossed his face. “You have worked hard for my division. You have done… a good job.”

Renji swallowed.

Byakuya went on. “If the Captain-Commander goes easy on you, I would be happy to have you return to your position. But if I have any weight to pull in this matter, I will use it for Rukia, and if it must be at your expense, so be it.”

“I would expect as much,” Renji replied quietly.

“But.” Byakuya stopped suddenly, spun around, and for the first time, stared Renji dead in the eyes. “Lieutenant Abarai. You are doing me a tremendous service, and I want you to know that I am grateful.”

Renji couldn’t breath. His blood pounded deafeningly in his ears. It was like being crushed by Captain Kuchiki’s reiatsu all over again. Somehow, though, he managed to speak.

“I… can’t protect her.”

Byakuya’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“But I can fight at her side. I can watch her back. And I’ll do everything in my power to bring her back. Bring all of us back.”

Byakuya gave a small, curt nod. “That is all I ask.”  He started to turn away.

“Hey, Captain?”

Byakuya closed his eyes, his face unreadable.

“Thanks for taking a chance on me. I always wanted to serve under you. It was everything I had hoped. Well. Maybe I hoped it would last a little longer.”

Byakuya took a deep breath, then turned and continued walking. “Maybe it will.” Eventually, he selected an utterly ordinary-looking door and slid it open. Inside, was a second set of doors, ornately carved, seemingly leading to nowhere. Also, Rukia. She regarded both of them solemnly.

Byakuya pulled apart the bundle in his arms, and tossed half to each of them. Renji juggled it for a moment, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with this pile of fabric.

Rukia figured it out first. “Cloaks?”

“It has been many years since I traveled to Hueco Mundo. The sandstorms are the worst; the cloaks will help. Conserve your water. Walk softly, Hollows often burrow beneath the sand.”

“Brother, I--” Rukia started.

“I despise Hueco Mundo. Let that little punk friend of yours run around for a while and see how _they_ like it.”

“Thank you for training me, Brother. I will make you proud!” Rukia interrupted.

Byakuya waved a hand dismissively as he turned away from her.  “Do me the courtesy of allowing me to leave before you open the gate, so that I can say with a straight face that I didn’t see where you went.” And with that, he was gone.

Rukia wiped her eyes as she felt her brother’s presence retreat down the hallway.

The uncertainty was gone. The nervous energy that had plagued her for weeks had condensed into cold, hard resolve. It was time to punch someone in the face.

Her oldest companion, her best friend stood next to her, waiting for her cue to jump into a land of nightmares and monsters. Something had changed for him, too. He was no longer thinking about monthly reports or training schedules. The look in his eyes was one she recognized, the look of a boy with perpetually busted knuckles and a split lip, ready to defend his turf against grown men three times his size. The difference was, that boy had been gangly and untrained, fiery anger his only advantage. Renji now, all muscles and reiatsu and tattoos, Zabimaru sealed at his hip, with that look in his eyes, was downright terrifying. “You about ready?” he asked.

“No,” she replied. “I need to make sure we’re clear on something, first. It’s about...after.”

“After?”

“After we get back. We’re deserting, Renji.”

Geez, everyone was concerned about his career path today. “I don’t care about that. I’ll face whatever book they throw at me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And so will I. You’re my superior, but I won’t have you taking the fall for me, you understand that?”

“Uh…” Renji stuttered.

“I won’t have Brother pulling family strings, either, and I know he’ll try." She crossed her arms and pointedly refused to make eye contact. "Whatever fate they hand down, we’ll face together. If they kick you out of the Gotei, we’ll go back to Rukongai. If they try to throw you in prison, we’ll escape and go underground in the Living World. I’d rather hang beside you than ever be separated again." Her eyes snapped back to meet his. "You got that?”

A smile spread over his face. “You seem awful confident that we’re gonna come out the other side of this thing.”

She shrugged. “If we die, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Fine. Deal. But I gotta get something clear with you, too.”

“What is it?”

He adjusted the cape around his neck. “I ain’t doing this for you.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Ichigo saved someone real important to me once, so I owe him one. And Chad and I lifted weights together, and he broke my nose and made me soup, we’re basically brothers now. And,” he scowled, “Orihime is about the sweetest kid I ever met and she made me a new bandana. I’m gonna make those fuckers sorry they ever _breathed._ ” He took a deep breath and scratched the back of his neck. “You don’t mind, do ya? That I co-opted your friends?”

She smiled sadly. “ _Our_ friends.”

He nodded. “Our friends.”

“Ishida might be there, too.”

“Well, you got me there. You can keep him.”

“He would probably be happier with that. He hates shinigami.”

“Oh. Well. Perfect, then.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You’re sure you’re not doing this for me? Not even a little bit?”

He gazed at her fondly. As he didn’t do _everything_ at least a little bit for for her. “Well, maybe. You're my friend, too, y'know. It’s been a long time since we jumped into a fight together, fists swinging. I been looking forward to it.”

“Me, too,” she said. “Let’s not wait any longer.”

 

~ end


End file.
